1 There is a house not made with hands,
Eternal and on high;
And here my spirit waiting stands,
Till God shall bid it fly.
2 Shortly this prison of my clay
Must be dissolved and fall,
Then, O my soul, with joy obey
Thy Heavenly Father’s call.
3 ’Tis He, by His almighty grace,
That forms thee fit for heaven,
And as an earnest of the place,
Has His own Spirit given.
4 We walk by faith of joys to come,
Faith lives upon His Word;
But while the body is our home,
We’re absent from the Lord.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | There is a house not made with hands |
Meter: | C. M. |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1870 |
Topic: | Christians: their life and experience; Constancy; Death: anticipation of(3 more...) |
Notes: | Author from index: Watts |