The Sinner’s Portion, and Saint’s hope. Ps. 17. 9-15

I. Watts                L.M.

Lord, I am thine, but thou wilt prove
My faith, my patience, and my love;
When men of spite against me join,
They are the sword, the hand is thine.

Their hope and portion lie below;
’Tis all the happiness they know;
’Tis all they seek; they take their shares
And leave the rest among their heirs.

What sinners value I resign;
Lord, ’tis enough that thou art mine.
I shall behold thy blissful face,
And stand complete in righteousness.

This life’s a dream, an empty show,
But the bright world to which I go,
Has joys substantial and sincere;
When shall I wake and find me there?

O glorious hour! O blest abode!
I shall be near, and like my God!
And flesh and sin no more control
The sacred pleasures of my soul.

My flesh shall slumber in the ground,
Till the last trumpet’s joyful sound;
Then burst the chains with sweet surprise,
And in my Saviour’s image rise.