Hymns, Selected and Original ‎#719

719. In vain my fancy strives to paint

1 In vain my fancy strives to paint
The moment after death;
The glories that surround a saint,
When yielding up his breath.

2 One gentle sigh his fetters breaks,
We scarce can say, "He's gone!"
Before the willing spirit takes
Its mansions near the throne.

3 Faith strives, but all its efforts fail,
To trace the spirit's flight;
No eye can pierce within the veil
Which hides that world of light.

4 Thus much (and this is all) we know,
Saints are completely blest;
Have done with sin, and care, and wo,
And with their Saviour rest.

5 On harps of gold they praise his name,
His face they always view;
Then let us foll'wers be of them,
That we may praise him too.

Text Information

• First Line: In vain my fancy strives to paint
• Meter: C. M.
• Publication Date: 1828
• Topic: Death: Death of the pious
• Notes: Now Public Domain.

Tune Information

(No tune information)