To Je­sus, the crown of my hope,
My soul is in haste to be gone:
O bear me, ye che­ru­bim, up,
And waft me away to His throne.

My Sav­ior, whom ab­sent, I love;
Whom, not hav­ing seen, I adore;
Whose name is ex­alt­ed above
All glo­ry, do­min­ion, and pow­er:

Dissolve Thou these bonds that de­tain
My soul from her por­tion in Thee;
Ah! strike off this ada­mant chain,
And make me eter­nal­ly free.

When that hap­py era be­gins,
When clad in Thy glo­ries I shine,
Nor grieve any more, by my sins,
The bo­som on which I re­cline:

O then shall the veil be re­moved,
And round me Thy bright­ness be poured:
I’ll meet Him whom ab­sent I loved,
And see whom un­seen I ad­ored.

And then, ne­ver more shall the fears,
The tri­als, temp­ta­tions, and woes,
Which dark­en this vall­ey of tears,
Intrude on my bliss­ful re­pose.

Or, if yet re­mem­bered above,
Remembrance no sad­ness shall raise;
They’ll be but new signs of Thy love,
New themes for my won­der and praise.

Thus strokes which from sin and from pain
Shall set me eter­nal­ly free,
But strength­en and ri­vet the chain
Which binds me, my Sav­ior, to Thee.