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?