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1 Jesus is gone above the skies,
Where our weak senses reach him not;
And carnal objects court our eyes,
To thrust our Saviour from our thought.
2 He knows what wandering hearts we have,
Apt to forget his lovely face;
And, to refresh our minds, he gave
These kind memorials of his grace.
3 Let sinful sweets be all forgot,
And earth grow less in our esteem;
Christ and his love fill every thought;
And faith and hope be fixed on him.
4 While he is absent from our sight,
'Tis to prepare our souls a place,
That we may dwell in heavenly light,
And live for ever near his face.
Source: Laudes Domini: a selection of spiritual songs ancient & modern (Abr. ed.) #524
First Line: | Jesus is gone above the skies |
Title: | The Memorial of Our Absent Lord |
Author: | Isaac Watts |
Meter: | 8.8.8.8 |
Language: | English |
Copyright: | Public Domain |