1 Not of terrestrial mortal themes
Not of the world’s delusive dreams
My soul attempts to sing;
But of that theme divinely true,
Ever delightful, ever new—
My Jesus and my king.
2 Oh could I speak the matchless worth,
Oh could I sound the glories forth,
Which in my Savior shine!
I’d soar, and touch the heavenly strings
And vie with Gabriel while he sings
In notes almost divine.
3 Upon the theme I’d ever dwell,
And in transporting raptures tell
What I in Jesus see;
I’d sing with more than mortal voice,
And lose my life amidst the joys
Of what He is to me.
4 Prostrate before His throne I’d fall,
And bless His holy name for all
The riches of His grace.
I’d sing how glorious power subdued,
I’d sing how sovereign love renewed
The vilest of the race.
5 I’d sing the precious blood He spilt,
My ransom from the dreadful guilt
Of sin, and wrath divine;
I’d sing His glorious righteousness,
In which all-perfect, heavenly dress
My soul shall ever shine.
6 I’d sing the characters He bears,
And all the forms of love He wears,
Exalted on His throne;
In loftiest songs of sweetest praise,
I would to everlasting days
Make all His glories known.
7 But ah! I’m still in clay confined,
And mortal passions clog my mind,
And downward drag me still;
O when shall I attain the skies,
And to immortal glories rise
On Zion’s heavenly hill?
8 Well, the delightful day will come,
When He, dear Lord! will bring me home,
And I shall see His face;
Then with my Savior, brother, friend,
A blest eternity I’ll spend,
Triumphant in His grace.
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