Give me the wings of faith to rise Within the veil and see The saints above, how great their joys, How bright their glories be. I ask them whence their vict'ry came; They, with united breath, Ascribe their conquest to the Lamb, Their triumph to his death. They mark the footsteps that he trod (His zeal inspir'd their breast), And, foll'wing their incarnate God, Possess the promis'd rest. Our glorious leader claims our praise For his own pattern giv'n; While the long cloud of witnesses Shows the same path to heav'n.
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