The humble worship of heaven.
Father, I long, I faint to see
The place of thine abode;
I'd leave thine earthly courts, and flee
Up to thy seat, my God!
Here I behold thy distant face,
And 'tis a pleasing sight;
But to abide in thine embrace
Is infinite delight.
I'd part with all the joys of sense
To gaze upon thy throne;
Pleasure springs fresh for ever thence,
[There all the heav'nly hosts are seen,
In shining ranks they move,
And drink immortal vigor in
With wonder and with love.
Then at thy feet with awful fear
Th' adoring armies fall;
With joy they shrink to nothing there,
Before th' eternal All.
There I would vie with all the host
In duty and in bliss;
While |less than nothing| I could boast,
And |vanity confess.|]
The more thy glories strike mine eyes
The humbler I shall lie;
Thus while I sink, my joys shall rise