_Heavenly Rest in Anticipation_ (1118)
When I can read my title clear
To mansions in the skies,
I'll bid farewell to every fear
And wipe my weeping eyes.
Should earth against my soul engage,
And fiery darts be hurled,
Then I can smile at Satan's rage.
And face a frowning world.
2 Let cares like a wild deluge come
Let storms of sorrow fall--
So I but safely reach my home,
My God, my heaven, my all.
There I shall bathe my weary soul
In seas of heavenly rest,
And not a wave of trouble roll
Across my peaceful breast.
Isaac Watts, 1707.