To Jesus, the Crown of my Hope,
My soul is in haste to be gone:
0 bear me, ye Cherubims, up,
And waft me away to his throne.
My Saviour, whom absent I love,
Whom not having seen I adore;
Whose Name is exalted above
All Glory, Dominion, and Power,
Dissolve Thou the bond that detains
My soul from her portion in Thee,
And strike off the adamant chains,
And make me eternally free.
When that happy æra begins,
when array’d in thy beauty I shine,
Nor pierce any more by my sins
The bosom, on which I recline: