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!