Isaac Watts - Hymn 162

Meditation of heaven; or, The joy of faith.

My thoughts surmount these lower skies,
And look within the veil;
There springs of endless pleasure rise,
The waters never fail.

There I behold, with sweet delight,
The blessed Three in One;
And strong affections fix my sight
On God's incarnate Son.

His promise stands for ever firm,
His grace shall ne'er depart;
He binds my name upon his arm,
And seals it on his heart.

Light are the pains that nature brings;
How short our sorrows are,
When with eternal future things
The present we compare!

I would not be a stranger still
To that celestial place,
Where I for ever hope to dwell
Near my Redeemer's face.

Isaac Watts

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