Where wilt thou be, my soul?—in paradise?
Or where the rich man lifted up his eyes?”
Immortal spirit would’st thou then be blest,
Waiting thy perfect bliss on Abraham’s breast;
Boast not of silly art, or wit, or fame,
Be thou ambitious of a Christian’s name;
Seek not thy body’s rest in peaceful grove,
Pray that thy soul may rest in Jesus’ love.
O speak not lightly of that dreadful day,
When all must rise in joy or in dismay;