To Jesus, the crown of my hope

To Jesus, the crown of my hope,
My soul is in haste to be gone;
O bear me, ye cherubim, up,
And waft me away to his throne.
My Savior, whom absent I love;
Whom, not having seen, I adore;
Whose name is exalted above
All glory, dominion, and power;

Dissolve from these bands that detain
My soul from her portion in thee,
Ah! strike off this adamant chain,
And make me eternally free.
When that happy era begins,
When arrayed in thy glories I shine,
Nor grieve any more, by my sins,
The bosom on which I recline;

O then, shall the veil be removed,
And round me thy brightness be poured;
I shall meet him, whom absent, I lov'd,
I shall see, whom unseen, I adored.
And then, never more shall the fears,
The trials, temptations, and woes,
Which darken this valley of tears,
Intrude on my blissful repose.