The Psalms and Hymns of Isaac Watts ‎#II.33

II.33. Hymn 33

Raise thee, my soul, fly up, and run
Through every heav'nly street,
And say, there's naught below the sun
That's worthy of thy feet.

[Thus will we mount on sacred wings,
And tread the courts above;
Nor earth, nor all her mightiest things,
Shall tempt our meanest love.]

There on a high majestic throne
Th' Almighty Father reigns,
And sheds his glorious goodness down
On all the blissful plains.

Bright like a sun the Savior sits,
And spreads eternal noon;
No evenings there, nor gloomy nights,
To want the feeble moon.

Amidst those ever-shining skies,
Behold the sacred Dove!
While banished sin and sorrow flies
From all the realms of love.

The glorious tenants of the place
Stand bending round the throne;
And saints and seraphs sing and praise
The infinite Three One.

[But O! what beams of heav'nly grace
Transport them all the while
Ten thousand smiles from Jesus' face,
And love in every smile!]

Jesus! and when shall that dear day,
That joyful hour, appear,
When I shall leave this house of clay,
To dwell amongst them there?

Text Information

• First Line: Raise thee, my soul, fly up, and run
• Title: Hymn 33
• Author: Isaac Watts
• Meter: C. M.
• Language: English
• Publication Date: 1806

Tune Information

(No tune information)