1 While journeying through this humble vale,
Expos'd to ev'ry adverse gale;
If to the throne I could repair,
I should be happy, happy there.
2 When doubts and fears my mind perplex,
Or worldly things go wrong, and vex,
If to the throne my soul draws near,
Propitious hope removes each fear.
3 Lord, this it is which soothes my grief,
And to my soul yields such relief:
I cry, enraptur'd, bid me come,
And near thee find my lasting home.
4 How prone to seek my good below!
How much like a deceitful bow
Is my false heart; though pledg'd to thee,
When first I gave that heart away.
5 O never, never can I find
Such joy and transport to the mind,
As when my ardent soul descry'd
The glories of the Man who dy'd.
6 The robe my legal soul had wrought
With pray'rs and tears, appear'd as nought:
One view, O Saviour, of thy love,
Forever fix'd my hopes above.
7 There let them firm forever rest,
With still increasing radiance blest;
Till death dissolves this mortal band,
And I arrive in Canaan's land.
Source: Society hymns, original and selected on evangelical and experimental subjects #XI