1 Great Lord of Angels! we adore
The grace that builds thy courts below;
And, 'midst ten thousand sons of light
Stoops to regard what mortals do!
2 Amidst the wastes of time and death,
Successive pastors thou dost raise,
Thy kingdom and thy truth to spread,
And form a people for thy praise.
3 At length, dismiss'd from feeble clay,
Thy servants join th'angelic band,
With them through distant worlds they fly,
With them before thy presence stand.
4 O blest employment! glorious hope!
Sweet lenitive of grief and care!
hen shall we reach those radiant courts,
And all their joys and honours share?
5 Yet while these labours we pursue,
Tho' distant from thy heav'nly throne,
Give us a zeal and love like theirs,
And half their heav'n shall here be known.
Source: Hymns, Selected and Original: for public and private worship (1st ed.) #568