How happy's ev'ry child of grace
That feels his sins forgiv'n!
"This earth," he cries, "is not my place,
I seek a place in heav'n;
A country far from mortal sight,
Yet, oh! by faith I see,
The land of rest, the saints' delight,
A heav'n prepared for me."

Oh, what a blessed hope is ours
While here on earth we stay!
We more than taste the heav'nly pow'rs
And antedate that day;
We feel the resurrection near,
Our life in Christ concealed;
And with His glor'ous presence here
Our longing hearts are filled.

When He shall more of heav'n bestow,
And bid my soul remove,
And let my trembling spirit go
To meet the God I love;
With rapt'rous awe on Him I'll gaze,
Who died to set me free,
And sing and shout redeeming grace
In vast eternity.