How Happy Every Child of Grace

How hap­py ev­ery child of grace

Who knows his sins for­giv­en!

This earth

he cries

is not my place

I seek my place in Heav­en—

A coun­try far from mor­tal sight

Which yet by faith I see

The land of rest

the saints’ de­light

The Heav­en pre­pared for me.

O what a bless­èd hope is ours!

While here on earth we stay

We more than taste the heav­en­ly pow­ers

And an­te­date that day.

We feel the re­sur­rect­ion near

Our life in Christ con­cealed

And with His glo­ri­ous pre­sence here

Our earth­en ves­sels filled.

O would He more of Heav­en be­stow

And let the ves­sels break

And let our ran­somed spir­its go

To grasp the God we seek;

In rap­tur­ous awe on Him to gaze

Who bought the sight for me;

And shout and won­der at His grace

Through all eter­ni­ty!