Classic Poem

Celestial content, inexhaustible treasure!
The man that enjoys thee requires no addition;
In thee he possesses wealth, honour, and pleasure:
O happy condition!

With pity he looks on the many, pursuing
The trisles of earth with such eager attention,
And straining, in chase of their utter undoing,
Their tortur'd invention.

Then upward on faith's friendly pinion he rises,
With rapture the glorious reversion beholding;
The gates to that bliss, which his longing heart prizes
(Tho' distant) unfolding.

On inviolate truth while his hopes are depending,
Nor terrors affright, nor afflictions depress him;
Assur'd, tho' to death's gloomy mansions saft tending
His God will still bless him.

Releas'd from the sorrows of time his glad spirit
Shall leave its weak partner, and joyfully soaring,
The promis'd possession begin to inherit;
With angels adoring.

He knows that his body, the grave now detaining,
In Jesus' bright image hereafter arising,
Shall surely rejoin him, no sorrow remaining,
Corruption despising.

Then with heaven's fair armies in triumph ascending
Partake of delights ever new and abounding;
Enraptur'd before the bright throne lowly bending
Salvation resounding.