1 Ascend, my soul, to Pisgah’s hill,
Which overlooks the promised land;
Go view from thence the fertile fields,
And there with joy and wonder stand.
2 Then wish, as David did, for wings,
The wings of the celestial dove,
To bear thee up from earthly things,
To those delightful seats above.
3 There Jesus, clothed in bright array,
Displays His banner, plants His throne;
There night is turned to endless day,
Nor sin nor sorrow there is known.
4 Speed fast away, ye days and years,
Come death, convey me swiftly home;
Adieu to all my doubts and fears,
My brightest joys are yet to come.
Source: The Cyber Hymnal #15660