6147. Southill

1 Thy saints are crowned with glory great;
They see God face to face;
They triumph still, they still rejoice
Most happy is their case.

2 We that are here in banishment
Continually do mourn:
We sigh and sob, we weep and wail,
Perpetually we groan.

3 Our sweet is mixed with bitter gall,
Our pleasure is but pain:
Our joys scarce last the looking on,
Our sorrows still remain.

4 But there they live in such delight,
Such pleasure and such play,
As that to them a thousand years
Doth seem as yesterday.

5 Thy vineyards and thy orchards are
Most beautiful and fair,
Full furnished with trees and fruits,
Most wonderful and rare.

6 Thy gardens and thy gallant walks
Continually are green:
There grow such sweet and pleasant flowers
As nowhere else are seen.

7 There is nectar and ambrosia made,
There is musk and civet sweet;
There many a fair and dainty drug
Is trodden under feet.

8 There cinnamon, there sugar grows,
Here nard and balm abound.
What tongue can tell or heart conceive
The joys that there are found?

Text Information
First Line: Thy Saints are crowned with glory great
Title: Southill
Original Language: English
Author: Augustine of Hippo
Tune Information

Adobe Acrobat image: PDF Score
Audio recording: Basic Piano & Organ, D Minor, 8
(Recorded by Clyde McLennan. D Minor, 8 verses)
Audio recording: Organ, D Minor, 8
(Recorded by Clyde McLennan. D Minor, 8 verses)

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