Hymn 162 by Isaac Watts
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.