When lang­uor and dis­ease in­vade
This trem­bling house of clay,
’Tis sweet to look be­yond my pains,
And long to fly away.

Sweet to look in­ward, and at­tend
The whis­pers of His love;
Sweet to look up­ward to the place
Where Je­sus pleads above.

Sweet to look back, and see my name
In life’s fair book set down;
Sweet to look for­ward and be­hold
Eternal joys my own.

Sweet to re­flect how grace di­vine
My sins on Je­sus laid;
Sweet to re­mem­ber that His blood
My debt of suf­fer­ing paid.