Christ Dwells in Heaven, but Visits on Earth. Song. 6. 1
I. Watts L.M.
When mourners stand and hear me tell
What beauties in my Saviour dwell,
Where he is gone they fain would know,
That they may seek and love him too.
My best Beloved keeps his throne
On hills of light, in worlds unknown;
But he descends and shows his face
In the young gardens of his grace.
[In vineyards, planted by his hand,
Where fruitful trees in order stand,
He feeds among the spicy beds,
Where lilies show their spotless heads.]
He has engrossed my warmest love;
No earthly charms my soul can move;
I have a mansion in his heart,
Nor death nor hell shall make us part.
[He takes my soul, ere I’m aware,
And shows me where his glories are;
No chariots of Amminadib
The heavenly rapture can describe.]
O may my spirit daily rise
On wings of faith above the skies;
Till death shall make my last remove,
To dwell for ever with my Love.