Classic Poem

Rise, ye saints, and sing below
The prospect of the joys above;
Think while you mourn where sorrows grow,
Yonder world of light and love!

Jesus, the God that once came down,
And liv'd a man of sorrows here,
Who wears in heav'n th' imperial crown,
And waits to bid us welcome there.

And, ere we reach the happy shore,
His Spirit condescends to bring
Taste, to make us long for more,
That which makes the angels sing.

And, if the earnest of his love
We find, while yet on earth so sweet,
What must the full possession prove
When round his glorious throne we meet!

When with immortal eyes we gaze
On the full glories of our God,
As in Emmanuel's face they blaze,
And fill with light the blest abode!