1 Oh, the delights, the heav'nly joys,
The glories of the place,
Where Jesus sheds the brightest beams
Of his o’erflowing grace!

2 Sweet majesty and awful love
Sit smiling on his brow,
And all the glorious ranks above
At humble distance bow.

3 [Princes to his imperial name
Bend their bright sceptres down:
Dominions, thrones, and pow'rs rejoice
To see him wear the crown.]

4 Archangels sound his lofty praise
Thro' ev'ry heav'nly street,
And lay their highest honours down
Submissive at his feet.

5 Those soft, those blessed feet of his,
That once rude iron tore,
High on a throne of light they stand,
And all the saints adore.

6 His head, the dear majestic head,
That cruel thorns did wound,
See what immortal glories shine,
And circle it around!]

7 This is the man, the exalted man,
Whom we unseen adore;
But when our eyes behold his face,
Our hearts shall love him more.

8 [Lord, how our souls are all on fire
To see thy bless'd abode;
Our tongues rejoice in tunes of praise
To our incarnate God!

9 And while our faith enjoys this sight,
We long to leave our clay;
And wish thy fi'ry chariots, Lord,
To fetch our souls away.]