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1 Lord, I am thine: but thy wilt prove
My faith my patience and my love;
When men of spite against me join,
They are the sword, the hand is thine.
2 Their hope and portion lie below;
’Tis all the happiness they know,
’Tis all they seek; they take their shares,
And leave the rest among their heirs.
3 What sinners value, I resign;
Lord, ’tis enough that thou art mine:
I shall behold thy blissful face,
And stand complete in righteousness.
4 This life’s a dream, an empty show;
But the bright world, to which I go,
Hath joys substantial and sincere;
When shall I wake and find me there?
5 O glorious hour! O blest abode!
I shall be nea,r and like my God;
And flesh and sin no more control
The sacred pleasures of the soul.
6 My flesh shall slumber in the ground,
Till the last trumpet’s joyful sound:
Then burst the chains with sweet surprise
And in my Saviour’s image rise.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | Lord, I am thine; but thou wilt prove |
Title: | The Sinner's Portion and Saint's Hope; or, the Heaven of separate Souls, and the Resurection |
Meter: | Long Metre |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1785 |
Scripture: |