Text: | The Humble Worship of Heaven |
Author: | Watts |
1 Father, I long, I faint to see
The place of thy abode;
I’d leave thy earthly courts and flee
Up to thy seat, my God!
2 Here I behold thy distant face,
And ’tis a pleasing sight;
But to abide in thy embrace
Is infinite delight.
3 I’d part with all the joys of sense
To gaze upon thy throne;
Pleasure springs fresh for ever thence,
Unspeakable, unknown.
4 [There all the heavenly host are seen;
In shining ranks they move,
And drink immortal vigour in,
With wonder and with love.]
5 [There at thy feet, with awful fear,
The adoring armies fall;
With joy they shrink to nothing there,
Before the eternal All.]
6 [There would I vie with all the host,
In duty and in bliss,
While less than nothing I could boast,
And vanity confess.]
7 The more thy glories strike my eyes
The humbler I shall lie;
Thus, while I sink, my joys shall rise
Unmeasurably high.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | Father, I long, i faint to see |
Title: | The Humble Worship of Heaven |
Author: | Watts |
Meter: | C. M. |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1844 |
Topic: | Heaven and Glory |