481    L.M.     Isaac Watts
The Sight of God and Christ in Heaven. Col. 3. 4

1 Descend from heaven, immortal Dove,
  Stoop down and take us on thy wings,
  And mount and bear us far above
  The reach of these inferior things;

2 Beyond, beyond this lower sky,
  Up where eternal ages roll,
  Where solid pleasures never die,
  And fruits immortal feast the soul.

3 O for a sight, a pleasing sight,
  Of our almighty Father’s throne;
  There sits our Saviour crowned with light,
  Clothed in a body like our own.

4 [Adoring saints around him stand,
  And thrones and powers before him fall;
  The God shines gracious through the Man,
  And sheds sweet glories on them all.

5 O what amazing joys they feel,
  While to their golden harps they sing
  And sit on every heavenly hill,
  And spread the triumphs of their King!]

6 When shall the day, dear Lord, appear,
  That I shall mount to dwell above,
  And stand and bow amongst them there
  And view thy face, and sing thy love?