1 Raise thee, my soul, fly up, and run Thro' every heavenly street, And say, there's nought below the sun That's worthy of thy feet.
2 [Thus will we mount on sacred wings, And tread the courts above; Nor earth, nor all her mightiest things Shall tempt our meanest love.]
3 There on a high majestic throne Th' Almighty Father reigns, And sheds his glorious goodness down On all the blissful plains.
4 Bright like a sun the Saviour sits, And spreads eternal noon, No evenings there, nor gloomy nights, To want the feeble moon.
5 Amidst those ever-shining skies Behold the sacred Dove, While banish'd sin and sorrow flies From all the realms of love.
6 The glorious tenants of the place Stand bending round the throne; And saints and seraphs sing and praise The infinite Three One.
7 [But O what beams of heavenly grace Transport them all the while! Ten thousand smiles from Jesus' face, And love in every smile!]
8 [Jesus, and when shall that dear day, That joyful hour appear, When I shall leave this house of clay To dwell amongst them there?]