1 While on the verge of life I stand,
And view the scene on either hand,
My spirit struggles with my clay,
And longs to wing its flight away.
2 Come, ye angelic guardians, come,
And lead the willing pilgrim home;
Ye know the way to Jesu's throne,
Source of my joys, and of your own.
3 The blissful interview, how sweet!
To fall transported at his feet!
Rais'd in his arms to see his face
Thro' the full beamings of his grace!
4 Yet with these prospects full in sight,
We'll wait thy signal for the flight;
For, while thy service I pursue,
I find my heav'n begun below.
|First Line:||While on the verge of life I stand|
|Title:||The happiness of departing and bieng with Christ|
|Topic:||Saints: Death of; Sinners: Death of|