Now fain my joy­ous heart would sing
That love­ly sum­mer time,
When God re­new­eth ev­ery­thing
In His ce­les­ti­al prime;
When He shall make new heav’ns and earth,
And all the crea­tures there
Shall spring from out that se­cond birth
All glo­ri­ous, pure, and fair.

The per­fect beau­ty of that sphere
No mor­tal tongue may speak,
We have no like­ness for it here,
Our words are far too weak;
And we must wait till we be­hold
The hour of judg­ment true,
That to the soul shall all un­fold
What God is, and can do.

For God ere long will sum­mon all
Who e’er on earth were born;
This flesh shall hear the trum­pet’s call
And live again that morn;
And when in Christ His Son we wake,
These skies asun­der roll,
And all the bliss of Heav’n shall break
Upon the rap­tured soul.

And He will lead the white robed throng
To His fair pa­ra­dise,
Where from the mar­riage feast the song
Of end­less praise shall rise;
And from His fa­thom­less ab­yss
Of per­fect love and truth,
Shall flow per­pe­tu­al joy and bliss,
In ne­ver end­ing youth.

Ah God, now lead me of Thy love
Through this dark world aright;
Lord Christ, de­fend me lest I rove
Or lies de­lude my fight;
And keep me stead­fast in the faith
Till these dark days have ceased,
And rea­dy still in life or death
For Thy great mar­riage feast.

And here­with will I end the song
Of that fair sum­mer time;
The blos­soms shall burst out ere long
Of Heav’n’s eter­nal prime;
The year be­gin, for ev­er new
God grant us then on high
To see our vi­sion here made true,
And eat the fruits of joy!