1 Why should this earth delight us so?
Why should we fix our eyes
On these low grounds where sorrows grow,
And every pleasure dies?
2 While time his sharpest teeth prepares
Our comforts to devour,
There is a land above the stars,
And joys above his power.
3 Nature shall be dissolv'd and die,
The sun must end his race,
The earth and sea for ever fly
Before my Saviour's face.
4 When will that glorious morning rise!
When the last trumpet sound,
And call the nations to the skies
From underneath the ground?