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The Celſtial Country.
11
8.
O happy, holy portion,
Refection for the bleſt,
True viſion of true beauty,
Sweet cure of all diſtreſt!
Strive, man, to win that glory;
Toil, man, to gain that light;
Send hope before to graſp it,
Till hope be loſt in ſight;
Till Jesus gives the portion
Thoſe bleſſed ſouls to fill—
The inſatiate, yet ſatiſfied,
The full, yet craving ſtill.
9.
That fulneſs and that craving
Alike are free from pain,
Where thou, midſt heavenly citizens,
A home like theirs ſhalt gain.
Here is the warlike trumpet;
There, life ſet free from ſin,
When to the laſt Great Supper
