1 When faith beholds the saints above,
And hears their strains of Jesus' love;
I fain would fly to join their lays,
And sing with them my Saviour's praise.
2 But can my soul such bliss obtain,
Whose guilt deserves eternal pain
Can I expect his face to see
Throughout a vast eternity?
3 If heaven be mine, 'tis all of grace,
I'll praise him for the lowest place;
May I but reach within the door,
My anxious soul desires no more.
4 'There, yet that love my Saviour, sit,
There I with you would fain have place,
Among your thrones or at your feet,
So I might see his lovely face.'
Text Information | |
---|---|
First Line: | When faith beholds the saints above |
Meter: | L. M. |
Publication Date: | 1828 |
Topic: | Eternity: Happiness of the righteous; View of Heaven |