How am I held a prisoner now,
Far from my God! this mortal chain
Binds me to sorrow: all below
Is short-lived ease, or tiresome pain.

When shall that wondrous hour appear,
Which frees me from this dark abode,
To live at large in regions where
Nor cloud nor veil shall hid my God?

Farewell this flesh, these ears, these eyes,
These snares and fetters of the mind;
My God! nor let this frame arise,
Till every dust be will refined.

Blest Jesus! make my nature whole,
Mold me a body like thy own,
Then shall it better serve my soul,
In works of praise and worlds unknown.

The Hartford Selection of Hymns from the most approved authors,