DLIII. The welcome messenger

1 Lord, when we see a saint of thine
Lie gasping out his breath,
With longing eyes, and looks divine,
Smiling and pleas'd in death;

2 How we could e'en contend to lay
Our limbs upon that bed!
We ask thine envoy to convey
Our spirits in his stead.

3 Out souls are rising on the wing,
To venture in his place;
For when grim death has lost his sting,
He has an angel's face.

4 Jesus, then purge my crimes away,
'Till guilt creates my fears;
'Tis guilt gives death his fierce array,
And all the arms he bears.

5 Oh! if my threatning sins were gone,
And death had lost his sting,
I could invite the angels on,
And chide his lazy wing.

6 Away these interpoling days,
And let the loves meet;
The angle has a cold embrace,
But kind, and soft, and sweet.

7 I'd leap at once my seventy years,
I'd rush into his arms,
And lose my breath, and all my cares,
Amid those heavenly charms,

8 Joyful I'd lay this body down,
And leave this lifeless clay,
Without a sigh, without a groan,
And stretch and soar away.

Text Information
First Line: Lord, when we see a saint of thine
Title: The welcome messenger
Author: Dr. Watts
Meter: C. M.
Language: English
Publication Date: 1792
Topic: Death; Death: The welcome messenger
Source: Dr. Watts's Lyric
Tune Information
(No tune information)



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