A Collection of Evangelical Hymns ‎#XXIV

XXIV. The Transfiguration

1 When at this distance, Lord, we trace
The various glories of thy face,
What transport pours o'er all our breast,
And charms our cares and woes to rest.

2 With thee in the obscurest cell
On some bleak mountain would I dwell,
Rather than pompous courts behold,
And share their grandeur and their gold.

3 Away, ye dreams of mortal joy!
Raptures divine my thoughts employ;
I see the King of Glory shine;
And feel his love, and call him mine.

4 On Tabor, thus his servants view'd
His lustre, when transform'd he stood;
And, bidding earthly scenes farewell,
Cries, "Lord, 'tis pleasant here to dwell."

5 Yet still our elevated eyes
To nobler visions long to rise;
That grand assembly would we join,
Where all thy saints around thee shine.

6 That mount how bright! those forms how fair!
'Tis good to dwell for ever there:
Come, Death, dear Envoy of my God,
And bear me to that blest abode.

Text Information

• First Line: When at this distance, Lord, we trace
• Title: The Transfiguration
• Author: Doddridge
• Meter: L. M.
• Language: English
• Publication Date: 1793
• Scripture:
  Matthew 17:4
• Topic: Son
• Notes: Public Domain.

Tune Information

(No tune information)