1 [Up to the fields where angels lie, And living waters gently roll, Fain would my thoughts leap out and fly, But sin hangs heavy on my soul.
2 Thy wondrous blood, dear dying Christ, Can make this load of guilt remove; And thou canst bear me where thou fly'st, On thy kind wings, celestial Dove!]
3 O might I once mount up and see The glories of th' eternal skies, What little things these worlds would be! How despicable to my eyes!
4 Had I a glance of thee, my God, Kingdoms and men would vanish soon, Vanish, as tho' I saw them not, As a dim candle dies at noon.
5 Then they might fight, and rage, and rave, I should perceive the noise no more Than we can hear a shaking leaf, While rattling thunders round us roar.
6 Great All in All, eternal King, Let me but view thy lovely face, And all my powers shall bow and sing Thine endless grandeur and thy grace.