Where is your dwelling, ye sainted?

Air-Hasse.

Where is your dwelling, ye sainted?

Through what Elysium, more bright
Than fancy or hope ever painted,
Walk ye in glory and light?
Who the same kingdom inherits?
Breathes there a soul that may dare
Look to that world of spirits,

Or hope to dwell with you there?

Sages, who, e'en in exploring

Nature through all her bright ways, Went, like the seraphs, adoring,

And veil'd your eyes in the blaze: Martyrs, who left for our reaping Truths you had sown in your blood; Sinners, whom long years of weeping Chasten'd from evil to good:

Maidens, who, like the young crescent,
Turning away your pale brows
From earth, and the light of the present,
Look'd to your Heavenly Spouse:
Say, through what region enchanted
Walk ye, in heaven's sweet air?
Or, oh! to whom is it granted,

Bright souls, to dwell with you there?

How lightly mounts the Muse's wing.

Air-Anonymous.

How lightly mounts the Muse's wing,
Whose theme is in the skies-
Like morning larks, that sweeter sing,
The nearer heav'n they rise!

Though Love his wreathed lyre may tune, Yet ah! the flow'rs he round it wreathes Were pluck'd beneath pale Passion's moon, Whose madness from their odour breathes. How purer far the sacred lute,

Round which devotion ties

Sweet flow'rs that turn to heavenly fruit,
And palm, that never dies.

Though War's high-sounding harp may be
Most welcome to the hero's ears,

Alas, his chords of victory

Are bath'd all o'er with tears.

How far more sweet their numbers run,

Who hymn, like saints above,

No victor but th' Eternal One,
No trophies but of love:

Go forth to the mount.

Air-Stevenson.

Go forth to the mount-bring the olive-branch home, And rejoice, for the day of our freedom is come!

From that time, when the moon upon Ajalon's vale
Looking motionless down, saw the kings of the earth
In the presence of God's mighty champion grow pale---
Oh never had Judah an hour of such mirth!
Go forth to the mount, bring the olive-branch home,
And rejoice, for the day of our freedom is come!

Bring myrtle and palm-bring the boughs of each tree That is worthy to wave o'er the tents of the free.

From that day when the footsteps of Israel shone With a light not their own through the Jordan's deep tide,

Whose waters shrunk back as the ark glided on-

Oh never had Judah an hour of such pride! Go forth to the mount-bring the olive-branch home, And rejoice, for the day of our freedom is come!

Is it not sweet to think hereafter?

Air--Haydn.

Is it not sweet to think hereafter?
When the spirit leaves this sphere,
Love, with deathless wing, shall waft her

To those she long hath mourn'd for here,
Hearts, from which 'twas death to sever,
Eyes, this world can ne'er restore,
There, as warm, as bright as ever,
Shall meet us and be lost no more.

When wearily we wander, asking
Of earth and heav'n, where are they
Beneath whose smile we once lay basking,
Blest, and thinking bliss would stay!
Hope still lifts her radiant finger

Pointing to th' eternal home,
Upon whose portal yet they linger,
Looking back for us to come.

Alas, alas, doth hope deceive us?

Shall friendship-love-shall all those ties, That bind a moment, and then leave us, Be found again where nothing dies? Oh! if no other boon were given,

To keep our hearts from wrong and stain,

Who would not try to win a heaven

Where all we love shall live again?

War against Babylon.

Air-Novello.

"War against Babylon!" shout we around,
Be our banners through earth unfurl'd;
Rise up, ye nations, ye kings, at the sound—-
"War against Babylon !" shout through the world!
Oh thou, that dwellest on many waters,

Thy day of pride is ended now;
And the dark curse of Israel's daughters

Breaks, like a thunder-cloud, over thy brow!
War, war, war against Babylon!

Make bright the arrows, and gather the shields,
Set the standard of God on high-

Swarm we,

like locusts, o'er all her fields,

"Zion" our watchword, and "vengeance" our cry! Woe! woe! the time of thy visitation

Is come, proud land, thy doom is cast

And the bleak wave of desolation

Sweeps o'er thy guilty head, at last!
War, war, war against Babylon!