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The Celeſtial Country.
Bore with me in defilement,
And from defilement laved,
When in His ſtrength I ſtruggle,
For very joy I leap,
When in my ſin I totter,
I weep, or try to weep:
But grace, ſweet grace celeſtial,
Shall all its love diſplay,
And David's Royal Fountain
Purge every ſin away.
42.
O mine, my golden Syon!
O lovelier far than gold,
With laurel-girt battalions,
And ſafe victorious fold!
O ſweet and bleſſed Country,
Shall I ever ſee thy face?
O ſweet and bleſſed Country,
Shall I ever win thy grace?
I have the hope within me
To comfort and to bleſs!
Shall I ever win the prize itſelf?
O tell me, tell me, Yes!
