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444 The Book of Praise.
i Whom the Lord lev eth> He chasteneth.'—(HEB.xu.6.}
When Christ, with all His graces crown'd, Sheds His kind beams abroad,
'Tis a young Heaven on earthly ground, And glory in the bud.
A blooming paradise of joy
In this wild desert springs, And every sense I straight employ
On sweet celestial things.
But ah ! how soon my joys decay !
How soon my sins arise And snatch the heavenly scene away
From these lamenting eyes !
When shall the time, dear Jesus, when
The shining day appear, That I shall leave those clouds of sin
And guilt and darkness here ?
Up to the fields above the skies
My hasty feet would go ; There everlasting flowers arise,
And joys unwithering grow !
Isaac Watts. 1709.