Earth has engrossed my love too long;
‘Tis time I lift mine eyes
Upward, dear Father, to thy throne,
And to my native skies.

There the blest man my Savior sits;
The God how bright he shines!
And scatters infinite delights
On all the happy minds.

Seraphs with elevated strains,
Circle the throne around:
And move, and charm the starry plains,
With an immortal sound.

Jesus, the Lord, their harps employs;
Jesus, my love, they sing;
Jesus, the life of both our joys,
Sounds sweet from every string.

Now let me mount and join their song,
And be an angel too;
My heart, my hand, my ear, my tongue,
Here’s joyful work for you.

I would begin the music here,
And so my soul would rise:
O for some heavenly notes to bear
My passions to the skies!

There ye that love my Saviour sit;
There I would fain have place,
Among your thrones, or at your feet,
So I might see his face.

The Hartford Selection of Hymns from the most approved authors,