Desire to see Jesus

From every earthly pleasure,
From every transient joy,
From every mortal treasure,
That soon will fade and die;
No longer these desiring,
Upwards our wishes tend,
To nobler bliss aspiring,
And joys that never end.

From every piercing sorrow,
That leaves our breast to-day
Or threatens us to-morrow,
Hope turns our eyes away,
On wings of faith ascending,
We see the land of light,
And feel our sorrows ending,
In infinite delight.

'Tis true, we are but strangers,
We sojourn here below;
And countless snares and dangers
Surround the path we go;
Though painful and distressing,
Yet there's a rest above;
And onward still we're pressing,
To reach that land of love.