479    C.M.     Isaac Watts
The Meditation of Heaven. 2 Cor. 4. 17, 18

1 My thoughts surmount these lower skies,
  And look within the veil,
  There springs of endless pleasure rise,
  The waters never fail.

2 There I behold, with sweet delight,
  The blessed Three-in-One;
  And strong affections fix my sight
  On God’s incarnate Son.

3 His promise stands for ever firm;
  His grace shall ne’er depart;
  He binds my name upon his arm,
  And seals it on his heart.

4 Light are the pains that nature brings;
  How short our sorrows are,
  When with eternal, future things,
  The present we compare!

5 I would not be a stranger still
  To that celestial place,
  Where I forever hope to dwell,
  Near my Redeemer’s face.