Text: | Longing for Heaven |
1 Sure 'tis in vain to seek for bliss,
For bliss can ne'er be found,
'Till we arrive where Jesus is,
And tread on heav'nly ground.
2 There's nothing round the spreading skies,
Or on this earthy clod;
Nothing, my soul that's worth thy joys,
Or lovely as thy God.
3 'Tis heav'n on earth to taste his love,
To feel his quick'ning grace;
And all the heav'n I hope above,
Is but to see his face.
4 Why move my years in slow delay?
And why this fear to die?
Death's but a guide that leads my way,
To a superior sky.
5 Dear Sov'reign, break these vital strings,
That bind me to my clay;
Help me to rise and stretch my wings,
And mount and soar away.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | Sure 'tis in vain to seek for bliss |
Title: | Longing for Heaven |
Meter: | C. M. |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1799 |
Topic: | Death: The Christian's passage to glory; Heaven: Longed for |