1 [Up to the fields where angels lie,
And living waters gently roll,
Fain would my thoughts leap out and fly,
But sin hangs heavy on my soul.

2 Thy wondrous blood, dear dying Christ,
Can make this world of guilt remove;
And thou canst bear me where thou fly'st,
On thy kind wings, celestial Dove!

3 O might I once mount up and see
The glories of th' eternal skies,
What little things these worlds would be.
How despicable to my eyes!]

4 Had I a glance of thee, my God,
Kingdoms and men would vanish soon;
Vanish, as tho' I saw them not,
As a dim candle dies at noon.

5 Then they might fight, and rage, and rave;
I should perceive the noise no more
Than we can hear a shaking leaf,
While rattling thunders round us roar.

6 Great All in All! Eternal King!
Let me but view thy lovely face,
And all my pow'rs shall bow, and sing,
Thine endless grandeur and thy grace.