The Beautiful, Beautiful Hills.

"I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills from whence cometh my help."-Ps. cxxi: 1. Rev. JOHNSON OATMAN, Jr. J. HOWARD ENTWISLE.

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2.

1. When my soul is oppress'd, When my heart is distress'd, With its weight of life's That fair city of God, Mortal never hath trod, There the cold wind of 3. There the angels of light Praise the Lord day and night, Heaven's courts with

[their

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burdens and ills, I will lift up mine eyes Un- to that par- a- - dise death nev- er chills; There no fears can appall, There no tears ev- er fall melody thrills, While there rolls a new song By that great blood-wash'd throng

D.S.

lift up mine eyes to the hills; Ishall join in the song With that glorified throng beautiful hills;

Owned by Joan Jood.

4 Where my dear ones await,
Just inside the pearl gate,

I shall go when my dear Father wills,
Then what joy there will be,
When each other we see

On the beautiful, beautiful hills.

Copyright, 1899, by J. Howard Entwisle.

5 There they never have night,
For the Lamb is the light,-
All the land with his glory he fills;
Soon he'll call me to come,
And with him rest at home
On the beautiful, beautiful hills.

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One Sweet Hour.

FANNY J. CROSBY,

JNO. R. SWENEY.

1. One sweet hour alone with Jesus, Where no eye but his can see,
2. One sweet hour alone with Jesus, When he bids my weary heart
3. One sweet hour alone with Jesus, When I climb the mountain's height,
4. One sweet hour alone with Jesus, One sweet hour of fervent pray'r;

3
4.

When my soul to him is

lifted, What a calm it brings to

me!

part.

Come a while and rest beside him, From the cares of earth a
And be hold, as in a vision, Yonder world of pure de light.
Oh, 'tis then my troubled spir it Learns from him its cross to bear

CHORUS.

Then on wings of joy as

cending, Holding fast his hand di- vine;

Oh, the joy, the bliss of knowing I am his and he is mine.

I'm Washed Xn the Blood.

Rev. H. J. ZElley.

JOHN J. HOOD.

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1. My many sins are all for giv'n, And ev'ry slavish chain is riv'n; 2. I ask'd for mercy at the throne, No merits had I of my own; 3. The blood flows o'er my trusting soul, It saves and makes me clean and whole;

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My burden's gone, my soul is
I pray'd for help in Je- sus'
Beneath the crimson tide I'll

free, name,

The precious blood avails for me. And to my heart the answer came: stay, Where all my guilt is wash'd away.

CHORUS.

The blood, the blood, I'm wash'd in the blood! I'm sav'd, I'm sav'd, O glory to God!

To save me from sin the Saviour died, And now I am justified.

Living Hymns, 2-C

Copyright, 1898, by John J. Hood.

They Brought their Gifts to Jesus. 35

EBEN E. REXFORD.

JOSEPH GARRISON.

1. They brought their gifts to Jesus, And laid them at his feet, And love for 2. Apart from other giv- ers, A poor wayfarer stood; He saw the 3. "Dear Lord," he cried in sorrow, "I know how kind thou art, Take all I

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this dear Saviour Made ev'ry off'ring sweet; Good deeds and words of gifts they offered, The poorest counted good. And he was fill'd with have to give thee, My sin- ful, wayward heart." Then Jesus answered