Wednesday, April 29, 2015
Earth has engrossed my love too long! `Tis time I lift mine eyes Upward, dear Father, to Thy throne, And to my native skies. There the blessed man, my Savior sits; The God! how bright He shines! And scatters infinite delights On all the happy minds. Seraphs, with elevated strains, Circle the throne around; And move and charm the starry plains, With an immortal sound. Jesus, the Lord, their harps employs; Jesus my love they sing! Jesus, the life of all our joys, Sounds sweet from every string. Now let me mount and join their song, And be an angel, too; My heart, my hand, my ear, my tongue,- Here's joyful work for you. I would begin the music here, And so my soul should rise; O for some heavenly notes to bear My passions to the skies! There ye that love my Savior sit, There I would fain have place, Among Your thrones or at your feet, So I might see His face. Isaac Watts