1 Why should this earth delight us so?
Why should we fix our eyes
On these low grounds, where sorrows grow,
And ev'ry pleasure dies?

2 While time his sharpest teeth prepares,
Our comforts to devour,
There is a land above the stars,
And joys above his pow'r.

3 Nature shall be dissolv'd and die,
The sun must end his race,
The earth and sea for ever fly
Before the Saviour's face.

4 When will that glorious morning rise,
When the last trumpets' sound,
And call the nations to the skies,
From underneath the ground?