1 The glories of that heavenly land
I've ofttimes felt before;
But what I feel is just a taste,
And makes me long for more,
And makes me long for more.
2 Had I the pinions of a dove,
I'd fly and be at rest;
Then would I go to Christ, my love,
And dwell among the blest.
3 O! could I reach my heavenly home,
And ne'er return again;
I would not think the seasons long
That I should suffer pain.
4 But Patience bids us wait awhile!
The crown's for them that fight;
The prize for those that win the race
By faith, and not by sight.
5 Through faith we look to yonder prize,
Laid up in heaven above;
Says Hope, "It shortly shall be mine,"
"I'll wear it soon," says Love.
|First Line:||The glories of that heavenly land|
|Topic:||Waiting for Christ: Closing Work|
|Composer:||Isaac B. Woodbury|
|Notes:||Alternate tunes: #399, 724, or 147.|
|O COME AND TO JEHOVAH SING (Blue Psalter 185)|
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