A kingdom which can ne'er decay, While time sweeps earthly thrones a way; The state which power and truth sustain, Unmoved forever must remain. There shall your eyes with rapture view The glorious friend that died for you; That died to ransom, died to raise To crowns of joy, and songs of praise. Jesus, to thee I breathe my prayer, Reveal, confirm my interest there: Whatever my humble lot below, This, this my soul desires to know. O let me hear that voice divine Pronounce the glorious blessing mine! Enrolled among thy happy poor, My largest wishes ask no more. Happy poverty; or, the poor in spirit blessed
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