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404 The Book of Praise,
uIn whom, though now ye see Him not, yet believing, ye rejoice with joy unspeakable, and full of glory r —(1 Pet. i. 8.)
My God, the Spring of all my joys,
The Life of my delights, The Glory of my brightest days,
And Comfort of my nights :
In darkest shades if He appear,
My dawning is begun ; He is my soul's sweet Morning-star,
And He my rising Sun.'
The opening heavens around me shine
With beams of sacred bliss, While Jesus shows, His heart is mine,
And whispers, I am His.
My soul would leave this heavy clay
At that transporting word, Run up with joy the-shining way -
T' embrace my dearest Lord.
Fearless of hell and ghastly death,
I'd break through every foe : The wings of love and arms of faith
Should bear me conqueror through.
Isaac Watts. 1709.