With transport, Lord, our souls proclaim
Th' immortal honors of thy name;
Assembled round our Saviour's throne,
We make his ceaseless glories known.
Through all succeeding ages, he
The same hath been, the same shall be;
Immortal radiance crowns his head,
And light and joy around are spread.
The same his power his flock to guard;
The same his bounty to reward;
The same his faithfulness and love
To saints on earth, and saints above.
Let nature change, and sink, and die,
On him our souls will still rely;
For, leaning on our Saviour's broast
How vain is all beneath the skies!
How slender all the fondest ties,
How transient every earthly bliss!
That bind us to a world like this!
The withering grass-the fading flow'r-
The evening cloud-the morning dew-
Of earthly hopes are emblems true-
The glory of a passing hour!
But though earth's fairest blossoms die,
And all beneath the sky is vain,
There is a land whose confines lie
Beyond the reach of care and pain.
Then let the hope of joys to come,
Dispel our cares, and chase our fears: