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Hymn 162 by Isaac Watts
Meditation of heaven; or, The joy of faith.
My thoughts surmount these lower skies, And look within the veil; There springs of endless pleasure rise, The waters never fail.
There I behold, with sweet delight, The blessed Three in One; And strong affections fix my sight On God's incarnate Son.
His promise stands for ever firm, His grace shall ne'er depart; He binds my name upon his arm, And seals it on his heart.
Light are the pains that nature brings; How short our sorrows are, When with eternal future things The present we compare!
I would not be a stranger still To that celestial place, Where I for ever hope to dwell Near my Redeemer's face.
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