O hap­py soul that lives on high
While men lie gro­vel­ing here!
His hopes are fixed above the sky,
And faith for­bids his fear.

His con­science knows no sec­ret stings,
While peace and joy com­bine
To form a life whose ho­ly springs
Are hid­den and di­vine.

He waits in sec­ret on His God,
His God in sec­ret sees;
Let earth be all in arms abroad,
He dwells in heav’n­ly peace.

His plea­sures rise from things un­seen,
Beyond this world and time;
Where nei­ther eyes nor ears have been,
Nor thoughts of sin­ners climb.

He wants no pomp nor roy­al throne
To raise his fig­ure here;
Content and pleased to live un­known,
Till Christ, his life, ap­pear.

He looks to Heav’ns eter­nal hill
To meet that glo­ri­ous day;
But pa­tient waits his Sav­ior’s will
To fetch his soul away.