The Child of Grace

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How happy's every child of grace; That feels his sins forgiven!
"This earth," he cries, "is not my place, I seek a place in heaven;"
A country far from mortal site, Yet, Oh! by faith I see,
The land of rest, the saint's delight, A heaven prepared for me.

O what a blessed hope is ours, While here on earth we stay!
We more than taste the heavenly powers, And antedate that day;
We feel the ressurrection near, Our life in Christ concealed,
And with His glorious presence here, Our longing hearts are filled.

When He shall more of heav'n bestow, And bid my soul remove,
And let my trembling spirit go, To meet the God I love,
With rapt'rous awe on Him I'll gaze, Who died to set me free,
And sing and shout redeeming grace in vast eternity,