70 THE DYING INDIAN S DRBAM " John Paul has come! John Paul has come! Bear the glad tidings far As the remotest star! Let every tongue, The shout prolong! Sound the Redeemer's praise, In loudest, loftiest lays! Your noblest anthems raise To everlasting days, To Him who brought him To this bright abode Of perfect blessedness, And Everlasting Peace, " The bosom of his Father and his God !" XII. Oh! Bliss Immortal! hail! all hail! All glory, honour to the Lamb who died! Now seated glorious at His Father side. Sound through the Universe his Name! His matchless Love his Fame proclaim! Till all His foes are put to shame. And let the story of the cross prevail O 'er every mountain, island, hill, and dale, Of the wide world, and Satan's power destroy,— The wondrous news thrills every heart with joy— Wafted on every breeze, by every swelling gale, Till sin and suffering, shame and sorrows fail; 'Gainst Love Omnipotent no force prevail; Till all His foes subdued shall bow the knee To Him who died on 's bloody tree, For lost and guilty men, of every race, Of every nation, station, time and place. Oh swell the joyful notes of Jubilee! The year of Grace! the year of Liberty! Burst! burst! ye prison bars! let man be free!