Oh, how the thought that I shall know
The man that suffer'd here below
To manifest his favour,
For me, and those whom most I love;
Or here, or with himself above,
Does my delighted passions move
At that sweet word, for ever!

For ever to behold him shine,
For ever more to call him mine,
And see him still before me!
For ever on his face to gaze,
And meet his full assembled rays,
While all the Father he displays
To all the saints in glory!

Not all things else are half so dear
As his delightful presence here,
What must it be in heav'n!
'Tis heav'n on earth to hear him say,
As now I journey, day by day,
‘Poor sinner, cast thy fears away,
‘Thy sins are all forgiv'n.’

But how must his celestial voice
Make my enraptur'd heart rejoice,
When I in glory hear him;
While I, before the heav'nly gate,
For everlasting entrance wait,
And Jesus, on his throne of state,
Invites me to come near him!

Come in, thou blessed, sit by me,
With my own life I ransom'd thee;
Come taste my perfect favour;
Come in, thou happy spirit, come,
Thou now shalt dwell with me at home;
Ye blissful mansions, make him room,
For he must stay for ever.

When Jesus thus invites me in,
How will the heavenly hosts begin
To own their new relation;
Come in! come in! the blissful sound
From every tongue will echo round,
Till all the crystal walls resound
With joy for my salvation.