1 Soon shall this earthly frame, dissolv'd,
in death and ruins lie;
but better mansions wait the just,
prepar'd above the sky.
2 An house eternal, built by God,
shall lodge the holy mind;
When once those prison-walls have fall’n
by which ‘tis now confined.
3 Hence, burden'd with a weight of clay,
we groan beneath the load,
waiting the hour which sets us free,
and brings us home to God.
4 We know, that when the soul, uncloth'd,
shall from this body fly,
’twill animate a purer frame
with life that cannot die.
5 Such are the hopes that cheer the just;
these hopes their God hath giv’n;
his Spirit is the earnest now,
and seals their souls for heav’n.
6 We walk by faith of joys to come,
faith grounded on his word;
but while this body is our home,
we mourn an absent Lord.
7 What faith rejoices to believe,
we long and pant to see;
we would be absent from the flesh,
and present, Lord! with thee.
8 But still, or here, or going hence,
to this our labours tend,
that, in his service spent, our life
may in his favour end.
9 For, Lo! before the Son, as judge,
th’ assembled world shall stand,
to take the punishment or prize
from his unerring hand.
10 Impartial retributions then
our different lives await;
our present actions, good or bad,
shall fix our future fate.
Source: The Irish Presbyterian Hymbook #R51a
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