XXXVI.
I’ll think of Heaven, where night shall be no more,
Where not one tear shall gather in mine eye,
Where weariness and pain shall all be o’er,
And I, with seraph wings, shall swiftly fly
With willing speed, my God to glorify,
And execute his blessed sovereign will.
Welcome the joyful hour when I shall die!
Die? No! I then shall live. On Zion’s hill
I shall forever dwell, and fear no future ill.