Now will I look to those blest plains, Beyond death's swelling flood; Where an eternal rest remains For all the sons of God. O, what transporting scenes of bliss Burst on my raptured view! There God, my heavenly Father, is, And there my brethren, too. There my best loved, exalted Friend, My Jesus, lives and reigns; And the sweet smile of rapture sends Through all the blissful plains. While, bending round his glorious throne, Adoring millions fall; Confess the glory is his own. And crown him Lord of all. There, as the moments sweetly roll, New thousands reach the shore, Where love shall every grief control, And they shall weep no more. Now their triumphant songs arise To God's eternal grace; And the full chorus of the skies Joins in the Savior's praise:— 'Worthy is He who suffered loss, And laid his glory down, For us to bleed upon the cross. Of Heaven's eternal crown! Roll on, roll on, ye heavenly years. His glory now we see; Nor sin, nor death, nor pains, nor fears, Mar our eternity!'— But here, o'erpowered with deep delight, I lose the heavenly strain; The blissful vision leaves my sight, And earth returns again. Dear Lord, and must death's narrow stream Confine me longer here? O! let some glimpse of glory beam, My longing soul to cheer. Prepare me for that happy land. Where sin disturbs no more; Then let me hear the sweet command To leave this mortal shore. Fearless I'll plunge in Jordan's flood, With Canaan in my view; And thine own arm, my Savior God, Shall bear me safely through. March, 1820.