1 Ye gold­en lamps of heav’n! fare­well
With all your fee­ble light;
Farewell, thou ever chang­ing moon,
Pale em­press of the night!
And thou, re­ful­gent orb of day,
In bright­er flames ar­rayed!
My soul, which springs be­yond thy sphere,
No more de­mands thine aid.

2 Ye stars are but the shin­ing dust
Of my di­vine ab­ode,
The pave­ment of those heav’n­ly courts
Where I shall reign with God.
The Fa­ther of eter­nal light
Shall there His beams dis­play;
Nor shall one mo­ment’s dark­ness mix
With that un­var­ied day.

3 No more the drops of pierc­ing grief
Shall swell in­to mine eyes;
Nor the me­ri­di­an sun de­cline
Amidst those bright­er skies.
There all the mill­ions of His saints
Shall in one song unite,
And each the bliss of all shall share
With in­fi­nite de­light.