with de­light

...Give of our store to the nee­dy poor,

New Year is com­ing, is com­ing,...

...But saints are love­ly in His sight,

He sees their hope, He knows their fear,...

...Oh! ’tis the sac­red hour of rest;

Thrice wel­come to my wea­ry breast....

...None but the right­eous, robed in pure white,

None but the ran­somed, spot­less and clean,...

...And with ten thou­sand thou­sands,

I know I’m weak and sin­ful,...

...And in His bo­som rest.

Would here no long­er stay;...