When langour and disease invade
This trembling house of clay,
‘Tis sweet to look beyond my pain,
And long to fly away: —

Sweet to look back, and see my name
In life’s fair book set down;
Sweet to look forward, and behold
Eternal joys my own: —

Sweet on His faithfulness to rest
Whose love can never end;
Sweet on the covenant of His grace
For all things to depend: —

If such the sweetnessof the stream,
What must the fountain be!
Where saints and angels draw their bliss,
O Lord, direct from Thee!


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