1 Happy the hours, the golden days,
When I could call my Jesus mine,
And sit, and view his smiling face,
And melt in pleasures all divine.
2 But now he's gone (O mighty wo!)
Gone from my soul and hides his love!
I hate the sins that griev'd him so,
The sins that forc'd him to remove!
3 Yet let my hope look through my tears,
And spy afar his rolling throne,
His chariot through the cleaving spheres
Shall bring the bright Beloved down.
4 Swift as a roe flies o'er the hills,
My soul springs out to meet him high:
Then shall the conqu'ror turn his wheels
And climb the mansions of the sky.
Isaac Watts was the son of a schoolmaster, and was born in Southampton, July 17, 1674. He is said to have shown remarkable precocity in childhood, beginning the study of Latin, in his fourth year, and writing respectable verses at the age of seven. At the age of sixteen, he went to London to study in the Academy of the Rev. Thomas Rowe, an Independent minister. In 1698, he became assistant minister of the Independent Church, Berry St., London. In 1702, he became pastor. In 1712, he accepted an invitation to visit Sir Thomas Abney, at his residence of Abney Park, and at Sir Thomas' pressing request, made it his home for the remainder of his life. It was a residence most favourable for his health, and for the prosecution of his literary… Go to person page >
Display Title: Forsaken, Yet HopingFirst Line: Happy the hours, the golden daysTune Title: LEFFINGWELLAuthor: Isaac WattsMeter: LMSource: Horae Lyricae and Divine Songs, Book I, 1706