Psalm 17
v.13-15
S. M.
Portion of saints and sinners.
Arise, my gracious God,
And make the wicked flee;
They are but thy chastising rod,
To drive thy saints to thee.
Behold, the sinner dies,
His haughty words are vain;
Here in this life his pleasure lies,
And all beyond is pain.
Then let his pride advance,
And boast of all his store;
The Lord is my inheritance,
My soul can wish no more.
I shall behold the face
Of my forgiving God;
And stand complete in righteousness,
Washed in my Savior's blood.
There's a new heav'n begun,
When I awake from death,
Dressed in the likeness of thy Son,
And draw immortal breath.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Related quotes
Psalm LXXIII: Now I'm Convinced the Lord Is Kind
Now I 'm convinced the Lord is kind
To men of heart sincere;
Yet once my foolish thoughts repined,
And bordered on despair.
I grieved to see the wicked thrive,
And spoke with angry breath,
"How pleasant and profane they live !
How peaceful is their death !
"With well-fed flesh and haughty eyes,
They lay their fears to sleep;
Against the heav'ns their slanders rise,
While saints in silence weep.
"In vain I lift my hands to pray,
And cleanse my heart in vain;
For I am chastened all the day,
The night renews my pain."
Yet while my tongue indulged complaints,
I felt my heart reprove,
"Sure I shall thus offend thy saints,
And grieve the men I love."
But still I found my doubts too hard,
The conflict too severe,
Till I retired to search thy word,
And learn thy secrets there.
There, as in some prophetic glass,
I saw the sinner's feet
High mounted on a slipp'ry place,
Beside a fiery pit.
I heard the wretch profanely boast,
Till at thy frown he fell;
His honors in a dream were lost,
And he awakes in hell.
Lord, what an envious fool I was!
How like a thoughtless beast
Thus to suspect thy promised grace,
And think the wicked blessed.
Yet I was kept from full despair,
Upheld by power unknown;
That blessed hand that broke the snare
Shall guide me to thy throne.
God, my supporter and my hope,
My help for ever near,
Thine arm of mercy held me up,
When sinking in despair.
Thy counsels, Lord, shall guide my feet
Through this dark wilderness;
Thine hand conduct me near thy seat,
To dwell before thy face.
Were I in heav'n without my God,
'twould be no joy to me;
And whilst this earth is my abode,
I long for none but thee.
What if the springs of life were broke,
And flesh and heart should faint?
God is my soul's eternal rock,
The strength of ev'ry saint.
Behold, the sinners that remove
Far from thy presence die;
Not all the idol gods they love
Can save them when they cry.
But to draw near to thee, my God,
Shall be my sweet employ;
My tongue shall sound thy works abroad,
And tell the world my joy.
Lord, what a thoughtless wretch was I,
To mourn, and murmur, and repine,
To see the wicked placed on high,
In pride and robes of' honour shine!
But O their end, their dreadful end!
Thy sanctuary taught me so;
On slipp'ry rocks I see them stand,
And fiery billows roll below.
Now let them boast how tall they rise,
I'll never envy them again;
There they may stand with haughty eyes,
Till they plunge deep in endless pain.
Their fancied joys, how fast they flee!
Just like a dream when man awakes;
Their songs of softest harmony
Are but a preface to their plagues.
Now I esteem their mirth and wine
Too dear to purchase with my blood;
Lord, 'tis enough that thou art mine,
My life, my portion, and my God.
Sure there's a righteous God,
Nor is religion vain;
Though men of vice may boast aloud,
And men of grace complain.
I saw the wicked rise,
And felt my heart repine,
While haughty fools with scornful eyes
In robes of' honor shine.
Pampered with wanton ease,
Their flesh looks full and fair;
Their wealth rolls in like flowing seas,
And grows without their care.
Free from the plagues and pains
That pious souls endure;
Through all their life oppression reigns,
And racks the humble poor.
Their impious tongues blaspheme
The everlasting God;
Their malice blasts the good man's name,
And spreads their lies abroad.
But I with flowing tears
Indulged my doubts to rise;
"Is there a God that sees or hears
The things below the skies?"
The tumults of my thought
Held me in hard suspense,
Till to thy house my feet were brought,
To learn thy justice thence.
Thy word with light and power
Did my mistake amend;
I viewed the sinners' life before,
But here I learned their end.
On what a slippery steep
The thoughtless wretches go;
And O that dreadful fiery deep
That waits their fall below!
Lord, at thy feet I bow,
My thoughts no more repine;
I call my God my portion now,
And all my powers are thine.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Psalm 73 part 1
Afflicted saints happy, and prosperous sinners cursed.
Now I'm convinced the Lord is kind
To men of heart sincere;
Yet once my foolish thoughts repined,
And bordered on despair.
I grieved to see the wicked thrive,
And spoke with angry breath,
"How pleasant and profane they live!
How peaceful is their death!
"With well-fed flesh and haughty eyes,
They lay their fears to sleep;
Against the heav'ns their slanders rise,
While saints in silence weep.
"In vain I lift my hands to pray,
And cleanse my heart in vain;
For I am chastened all the day,
The night renews my pain."
Yet while my tongue indulged complaints,
I felt my heart reprove,-
"Sure I shall thus offend thy saints,
And grieve the men I love."
But still I found my doubts too hard,
The conflict too severe,
Till I retired to search thy word,
And learn thy secrets there.
There, as in some prophetic glass,
I saw the sinner's feet
High mounted on a slipp'ry place,
Beside a fiery pit.
I heard the wretch profanely boast,
Till at thy frown he fell;
His honors in a dream were lost,
And he awakes in hell.
Lord, what an envious fool I was!
How like a thoughtless beast!
Thus to suspect thy promised grace,
And think the wicked blest.
Yet I was kept from full despair,
Upheld by power unknown;
That blessed hand that broke the snare
Shall guide me to thy throne.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Psalm 56
Deliverance from oppression and falsehood.
O Thou whose justice reigns on high,
And makes th' oppressor cease,
Behold how envious sinners try
To vex and break my peace.
The sons of violence and lies
Join to devour me, Lord;
But as my hourly dangers rise,
My refuge is thy word.
In God most holy, just, and true,
I have reposed my trust;
Nor will I fear what flesh can do,
The offspring of the dust.
They wrest my words to mischief still,
Charge me with unknown faults;
Mischief doth all their counsels fill,
And malice all their thoughts.
Shall they escape without thy frown?
Must their devices stand?
O cast the haughty sinner down,
And let him know thy hand.
PAUSE.
God counts the sorrows of his saints,
Their groans affect his ears;
Thou hast a book for my complaints,
A bottle for my tears.
When to thy throne I raise my cry,
The wicked fear and flee;
So swift is prayer to reach the sky,
So near is God to me.
In thee, most holy, just, and true,
I have reposed my trust;
Nor will I fear what man can do,
The offspring of the dust.
Thy solemn vows are on me, Lord,
Thou shalt receive my praise;
I'll sing, "How faithful is thy word,
How righteous all thy ways!"
Thou hast secured my soul from death,
O set thy pris'ner free!
That heart and hand, and life and breath,
May be employ'd for thee.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Fountain of Never-Ceasing Grace
Fountain of never ceasing grace,
Thy saints’ exhaustless theme,
Great object of immortal praise,
Essentially supreme;
We bless Thee for the glorious fruits
Thine incarnation gives;
The righteousness which grace imputes,
And faith alone receives.
Whom heaven’s angelic host adores,
Was slaughtered for our sin;
The guilt, O Lord was wholly ours,
The punishment was Thine:
Our God in the flesh, to set us free,
Was manifested here;
And meekly bare our sins, that we
His righteousness might wear.
Imputatively guilty then
Our substitute was made,
That we the blessings might obtain
For which His blood was shed:
Himself He offered on the cross,
Our sorrows to remove;
And all He suffered was for us,
And all He did was love.
In Him we have a righteousness,
By God Himself approved;
Our rock, our sure foundation this,
Which never can be moved.
Our ransom by His death He paid,
For all His people giv’n,
The law He perfectly obeyed,
That they might enter heav’n.
As all, when Adam sinned alone,
In his transgression died,
So by the righteousness of One,
Are sinners justified,
We to Thy merit, gracious Lord,
With humblest joy submit,
Again to Paradise restored,
In Thee alone complete.
Our souls His watchful love retrieves,
Nor lets them go astray,
His righteousness to us He gives,
And takes our sins away:
We claim salvation in His right,
Adopted and forgiv’n,
His merit is our robe of light,
His death the gate of heav’n.
poem by Augustus Montague Toplady
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Psalm 50
The last judgment.
The Lord, the Sovereign, sends his summons forth,
Calls the south nations and awakes the north;
From east to west the sounding orders spread,
Through distant worlds and regions of the dead:
No more shall atheists mock his long delay;
His vengeance sleeps no more: behold the day!
Behold, the Judge descends, his guards are nigh;
Tempest and fire attend him down the sky:
Heav'n, earth, and hell, draw near; let all things come
To hear his justice, and the sinner's doom:
"But gather first my saints," the Judge commands,
"Bring them, ye angels, from their distant lands.
"Behold, my cov'nant stands for ever good,
Sealed by th' eternal Sacrifice in blood,
And signed with all their names; the Greek, the Jew,
That paid the ancient worship or the new,
There's no distinction here; come, spread their thrones,
And near me seat my fav'rites and my sons.
"I, their Almighty Savior and their God,
I am their Judge: ye heav'ns, proclaim abroad
My just eternal sentence, and declare
Those awful truths that sinners dread to hear:
Sinners in Zion, tremble and retire;
I doom the painted hypocrite to fire.
"Not for the want of goats or bullocks slain
Do I condemn thee; bulls and goats are vain
Without the flames of love; in vain the store
Of brutal off'rings that were mine before;
Mine are the tamer beasts and savage breed,
Flocks, herds, and fields and forests where they feed.
"If I were hungry, would I ask thee food?
When did I thirst, or drink thy bullocks' blood?
Can I be flattered with thy cringing bows,
Thy solemn chatt'rings and fantastic vows?
Are my eyes charmed thy vestments to behold,
Glaring in gems, and gay in woven gold?
"Unthinking wretch! how couldst thou hope to please
A God, a Spirit, with such toys as these,
While, with my grace and statutes on thy tongue,
Thou lov'st deceit, and dost thy brother wrong?
In vain to pious forms thy zeal pretends,
Thieves and adulterers are thy chosen friends.
"Silent I waited with long-suff'ring love,
But didst thou hope that I should ne'er reprove?
And cherish such an impious thought within,
That God, the Righteous, would indulge thy sin?
Behold my terrors now: my thunders roll,
And thy own crimes affright thy guilty soul."
Sinners, awake betimes; ye fools, be wise;
Awake before this dreadful morning rise;
Change your vain thoughts, your crooked works amend,
Fly to the Savior, make the Judge your friend
Lest, like a lion, his last vengeance tear
Your trembling souls, and no deliv'rer near.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Psalm 49
The rich sinner's death, and the saint's resurrection.
Why do the proud insult the poor,
And boast the large estates they have?
How vain are riches to secure
Their haughty owners from the grave!
They can't redeem one hour from death,
With all the wealth in which they trust;
Nor give a dying brother breath,
When God commands him down to dust.
There the dark earth and dismal shade
Shall clasp their naked bodies round;
That flesh, so delicately fed,
Lies cold and moulders in the ground.
Like thoughtless sheep the sinner dies,
Laid in the grave for worms to eat:
The saints shall in the morning rise,
And find th' oppressor at their feet.
His honors perish in the dust,
And pomp and beauty, birth and blood:
That glorious day exalts the just
To full dominion o'er the proud.
My Savior shall my life restore,
And raise me from my dark abode;
My flesh and soul shall part no more,
But dwell for ever near my God.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Saints An Sinners
(coverdale/lord/moody/marsden/murray/paice)
Get ready for judgement day
An the final curtain call,
Dont lie when you testify
cos the good lord know youre all
Saints an sinners, priests an thieves,
Saints an sinners, priests an thieves
When moses stood on the red sea shore
Laying the law on the line,
He said dont come knocking
On the pearly gates
If all you did was have a real good time
Saints an sinners, priests an thieves,
Saints an sinners, priests an thieves
For what we are about to receive
May the lord make us truly thankful.
Saints an sinners
I stand guilty of a thousand crimes,
An I suffer temptation still,
Show me a man who wont give it to his woman
An Ill show you somebody who will
Saints an sinners, priests an thieves,
Saints an sinners, priests an thieves
For what we are about to receive
May the lord make us truly thankful
Saints an sinners,
Saints an sinners, priests an thieves,
Get ready for judgement day
An the final curtain call,
Dont lie when you testify
cos the good lord know youre all
Saints an sinners, priests an thieves,
Saints an sinners, priests an thieves
For what we are about to receive
May the lord make us truly thankful
Saints an sinners, priests an thieves
Saints an sinners...
song performed by by Whitesnake
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Psalm 73
v.22,3,6,17-20
L. M.
The prosperity of sinners cursed.
Lord, what a thoughtless wretch was I,
To mourn, and murmur, and repine,
To see the wicked placed on high,
In pride and robes of honor shine!
But O their end, their dreadful end!
Thy sanctuary taught me so;
On slipp'ry rocks I see them stand,
And fiery billows roll below.
Now let them boast how tall they rise,
I'll never envy them again;
There they may stand with haughty eyes,
Till they plunge deep in endless pain.
Their fancied joys, how fast they flee!
Just like a dream when man awakes;
Their songs of softest harmony
Are but a preface to their plagues.
Now I esteem their mirth and wine
Too dear to purchase with my blood;
Lord, 'tis enough that thou art mine,
My life, my portion, and my God.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Wicked
Born wicked, but covered in blood, from the saving fountain above,
A fountain that flows from Calvary, to save a wicked sinner like me;
Born separated, right from my birth, as a lost sinner upon this earth,
Separated from God up above, who reached down with saving love.
God sent to us a cleansing flood, through His Son’s precious blood,
A flood which covered all the earth, affording all men a spiritual birth,
To every soul, within every nation, God offers in Christ His Salvation,
And to every sinner God offers life, through The Savior, Jesus Christ.
Dark and wicked down to my heart, but, God gave to me a new start,
Bringing me to Calvary’s Cross, He began to purge my wicked dross,
My Lord as Savior I came to know, said He’d make me white as snow,
As red as scarlet, my sin may be, I’m washed in The Blood of Calvary.
Dead in sin, I was spiritually lost, But, The Lord God, paid all the cost,
For all my sin and its punishment, through His Only Son, He had sent,
When on God’s Son my sin was laid, full payment for my sin He paid,
The Son bore all my wickedness, and gave to me, His Righteousness.
Though wicked and vile to the core, when on the cross my sin He bore,
God’s forgiveness was sent my way, and I stand in Jesus Christ today,
Now when God looks down on me, it is the Blood of Christ He will see,
The Blood which truly sets me apart, now that Christ dwells in my heart.
(Copyright ©12/2010)
Psalm 37 part 3
v.23-87
C. M.
The way and end of the righteous and the wicked.
My God, the steps of pious men
Are ordered by thy will;
Though they should fall, they rise again,
Thy hand supports them still.
The Lord delights to see their ways,
Their virtue he approves;
He'll ne'er deprive them of his grace,
Nor leave the men he loves.
The heav'nly heritage is theirs,
Their portion and their home;
He feeds them now, and makes them heirs
Of blessings long to come.
Wait on the Lord, ye sons of men,
Nor fear when tyrants frown;
Ye shall confess their pride was vain,
When justice casts them down.
PAUSE.
The haughty sinner have I seen,
Nor fearing man nor God,
Like a tall bay-tree, fair and green,
Spreading his arms abroad.
And lo! he vanished from the ground,
Destroyed by hands unseen;
Nor root, nor branch, nor leaf was found
Where all that pride had been.
But mark the man of righteousness,
His several steps attend;
True pleasure runs through all his ways,
And peaceful is his end.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Hymn 85
Salvation, righteousness, and strength in Christ.
Isa. 45:21-25.
The Lord on high proclaims
His Godhead from his throne:
"Mercy and justice are the names
By which I will be known.
"Ye dying souls that sit
In darkness and distress,
Look from the borders of the pit
To my recov'ring grace."
Sinners shall hear the sound;
Their thankful tongues shall own,
"Our righteousness and strength is found
In thee, the Lord, alone."
In thee shall Isr'el trust,
And see their guilt forgiv'n;
God will pronounce the sinners just,
And take the saints to heav'n.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Hymn 23
The sight of God and Christ in heaven.
Descend from heav'n, immortal Dove,
Stoop down and take us on thy wings,
And mount and bear us far above
The reach of these inferior things:
Beyond, beyond this lower sky,
Up where eternal ages roll;
Where solid pleasures never die,
And fruits immortal feast the soul.
O for a sight, a pleasing sight
Of our Almighty Father's throne!
There sits our Savior crowned with light,
Clothed in a body like our own.
Adoring saints around him stand,
And thrones and powers before him fall;
The God shines gracious through the man,
And sheds sweet glories on them all.
O what amazing joys they feel
While to their golden harps they sing,
And sit on every heav'nly hill,
And spread the triumphs of their King!
When shall the day, dear Lord, appear,
That I shall mount to dwell above,
And stand and bow amongst them there,
And view thy face, and sing, and love?
poem by Isaac Watts
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Psalm 94 part 1
v.1,2,7-14
C. M.
Saints chastised, and sinners destroyed; or, Instructive afflictions.
O God, to whom revenge belongs,
"Proclaim thy wrath aloud;
Let sovereign power redress our wrongs,
Let justice smite the proud.
They say, "The Lord nor sees nor hears:"
When will the fools be wise?
Can he be deaf who formed their ears?
Or blind, who made their eyes?
He knows their impious thoughts are vain,
And they shall feel his power;
His wrath shall pierce their souls with pain
In some surprising hour.
But if thy saints deserve rebuke,
Thou hast a gentler rod;
Thy providence's and thy book
Shall make them know their God.
Blest is the man thy hands chastise,
And to his duty draw;
Thy scourges make thy children wise
When they forget thy law.
But God will ne'er cast off his saints,
Nor his own promise break
He pardons his inheritance
For their Redeemer's sake.
poem by Isaac Watts
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On One Stone Shall Be Seven Eyes
Jesus Christ, the Lord's anointed,
Who his blood for sinners spilt;
Is the Stone by God appointed,
And the church is on him built:
He delivers all who trust him from their guilt.
Many eyes at once are fixed
On a person so divine;
Love, with aweful justice mixed,
In his great redemption shine:
Mighty Jesus! give me leave to call thee mine.
By the Father's eye approved,
Lo, a voice is heard from heav'n,
Sinners, this is my Beloved,
For your ransom freely given:
All offences, for his sake, shall be forgiven.
Angels with their eyes pursued him,
When he left his glorious throne;
With astonishment they viewed him
Put the form of servant on:
Angels worshipped him who was on earth unknown.
Satan and his host amazed,
Saw this stone in Zion laid;
Jesus, though to death abased,
Bruised the subtle serpent's head:
When to save us, on the cross his blood he shed.
When a guilty sinner sees him,
While he looks his soul is healed;
Soon this sight from anguish frees him,
And imparts a pardon sealed:
May this Saviour be to all our hearts revealed!
With desire and admiration,
All his blood-bought flock behold;
Him who wrought out their salvation,
And enclosed them in his fold:
Yet their warmest love, and praises, are too cold.
By the eye of carnal reason
Many view him with disdain;
How will they abide the season
When he'll come with all his train:
To escape him then they'll wish, but wish in vain.
How their hearts will melt and tremble
When they hear his aweful voice;
But his saints he'll then assemble,
As his portion and his choice;
And receive them to his everlasting joys.
poem by John Newton
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Psalm 73 part 2
v.23-28
C. M.
God our portion here and hereafter.
God, my supporter and my hope,
My help for ever near,
Thine arm of mercy held me up,
When sinking in despair.
Thy counsels, Lord, shall guide my feet
Through this dark wilderness;
Thine hand conduct me near thy seat,
To dwell before thy face.
Were I in heav'n without my God,
'Twould be no joy to me;
And whilst this earth is my abode,
I long for none but thee.
What if the springs of life were broke,
And flesh and heart should faint?
God is my soul's eternal rock,
The strength of every saint.
Behold, the sinners that remove
Far from thy presence die;
Not all the idol gods they love
Can save them when they cry.
But to draw near to thee, my God,
Shall be my sweet employ;
My tongue shall sound thy works abroad,
And tell the world my joy.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Hymn 58
The devil vanquished; or, Michael's war with the dragon.
Rev. 12:7.
Let mortal tongues attempt to sing
The wars of heav'n, when Michael stood
Chief general of th' Eternal King,
And fought the battles of our God.
Against the dragon and his host
The armies of the Lord prevail:
In vain they rage, in vain they boast,
Their courage sinks, their weapons fail.
Down to the earth was Satan thrown,
Down to the earth his legions fell;
Then was the trump of triumph blown,
And shook the dreadful deeps of hell.
Now is the hour of darkness past,
Christ has assum'd his reigning power;
Behold the great accuser cast
Down from the skies to rise no more.
'Twas by thy blood, immortal Lamb,
Thine armies trod the tempter down;
'Twas by thy word and powerful name
They gain'd the battle and renown.
Rejoice, ye heav'ns; let every star
Shine with new glories round the sky;
Saints, while ye sing the heav'nly war,
Raise your Deliv'rer's name on high.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Psalm 82
God the supreme Governor; or, Magistrates warned.
Among th' assemblies of the great
A greater Ruler takes his seat;
The God of heav'n, as Judge, surveys
Those gods on earth, and all their ways.
Why will ye, then, frame wicked laws?
Or why support th' unrighteous cause?
When will ye once defend the poor,
That sinners vex the saints no more?
They know not, Lord, nor will they know;
Dark are the ways in which they go;
Their name of earthly gods is vain,
For they shall fall and die like men.
Arise, O Lord, and let thy Son
Possess his universal throne,
And rule the nations with his rod;
He is our Judge, and he our God.
poem by Isaac Watts
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I Am A Sinner
Friend, I’m a wicked sinner too, a fallen sinner, just like you,
But, I have been to Calvary, to the cleansing blood you see,
It is purely the Blood of Christ, which changed my sinful life,
Going to the cleansing flood, I was saved by Christ’s Blood.
Though I read the Truth before, I knew not Christ as my Lord,
Though religious I may have been, I was the victim of my sin,
Putting me at odds with God; inviting Judgment from His rod.
With no sin found in God at all, we’re alienated by Adam’s fall.
Worse than that all men must die, for the sin from Satan’s Lie.
But being a God of love, He sought man from Heaven above,
Not wanting anybody to perish, God sent One He did cherish,
God’s one and only Son Christ, this to grant all men New Life.
He came to earth with one plan; God’s salvation for sinful man,
God’s Judgment was the cost, to save a world of sinners lost.
For God’s price must be paid, and upon Him our sin God laid,
Making Him the perfect sacrifice, to pay the total of sin’s price.
I am still a sinner just like before, I accepted Christ as my Lord,
But the Blood of Jesus Christ, has given my life righteousness,
His Righteousness, not my own, to point sinners to the Throne,
So they can be forgiven too, by Him who died for me and you.
(Copyright ©06/2007)
Psalm 119 part 1
The blessedness of saints, and misery of sinners.
ver. 1-3
Blest are the undefiled in heart,
Whose ways are right and clean;
Who never from thy law depart,
But fly from every sin.
Blest are the men that keep thy word,
And practise thy commands;
With their whole heart they seek the Lord,
And serve thee with their hands.
ver. 165
Great is their peace who love thy law;
How firm their souls abide!
Nor can a bold temptation draw
Their steady feet aside.
ver. 6
Then shall my heart have inward joy,
And keep my face from shame,
When all thy statutes I obey,
And honor all thy name.
ver. 21,118
But haughty sinners God will hate,
The proud shall die accursed;
The sons of falsehood and deceit
Are trodden to the dust.
ver. 119,155
Vile as the dross the wicked are;
And those that leave thy ways
Shall see salvation from afar,
But never taste thy grace.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Hymn 22 part 1
Christ the eternal life.
Rom. 9:5.
Jesus, our Savior and our God,
Arrayed in majesty and blood,
Thou art our life; our souls in thee
Possess a full felicity.
All our immortal hopes are laid
In thee, our surety and our head;
Thy cross, thy cradle, and thy throne,
Are big with glories yet unknown.
Let atheists scoff, and Jews blaspheme
Th' eternal life and Jesus' name;
A word of thy almighty breath
Dooms the rebellious world to death.
But let my soul for ever lie
Beneath the blessings of thine eye;
'Tis heav'n on earth, 'tis heav'n above,
To see thy face and taste thy love.
poem by Isaac Watts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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