Indian Methodist Hymn-book

e the nearer waters roll,
While the tempest still is high:
Hide me, oh, my Saviour, hide,
Till the storm of life be past;
Safe into the haven guide,
Oh, receive my soul at last. 15 THERE IS A LAND OF PURE DELIGHT. Can. Hym'l, No. 254.

ALKOMAYLUM

1
Tchee-tchilth tumokh owe-awts hayluk
Ta shwalays ta ay-e mestayokh,
Owe-awts see-a-kwom staa to lay,
Owita `kaw-`kie lay.

2
Owe-awts kweelis lay ta tchee-tchilth,
Ta spa-`kwom owe-awts ay-e;
Tla-wat owe-awts tsits-ay-e o ay-e,
Tchalal hayluk lay titsa.

C.M.T.

ENGLISH

1 There is a land of pure delight

Where saints immortal reign;
Infinite day excludes the night,
And pleasures banish pain.

2 There everlasting spring abides,

And never withering flowers;
Death, like a narrow sea, divides
That heavenly land from ours