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248 |
6,6,6,6,8,8
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Safe home, safe home in port! --Rent cordage, shattered deck, Torn sails, provisions short, And only not a wreck: But oh! the joy upon the shore To tell our voyage-perils o'er! | |
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The prize, the prize secure! The athlete nearly fell; Bare all he could endure, And bare not always well: But he may smile at troubles gone Who sets the victor-garland on! | |
No more the foe can harm No more of leaguered camp, And cry of night-alarm, And need of ready lamp: And yet how nearly he had failed,-- How nearly had that foe prevailed! | |
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The lamb is in the fold In perfect safety penned: The lion once had hold, And thought to make an end: But One came by with Wounded Side, And for the sheep the Shepherd died. | |
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The exile is at Home --O nights and days of tears, O longings not to roam, O sins, and doubts, and fears,-- What matter now (when so men say) The King has wiped those tears away? | |
O happy, happy Bride! Thy widowed hours are past, The Bridegroom at thy side, Thou all His own at last! The sorrows Of thy former cup In full fruition swallowed up! |
[No. 5 in H. E. C. This, of all the melodies written for, or adapted to, these hymns, is my own especial favourite. One feels that the anonymous writer of such a plaintive, yet soothing, melody, must have been one--to quote Archbishop Trench's words with regard to the author of Veni, Sancte Spiritus,--acquainted with great sorrows, but also with great consolations.]