Up to the fields, where angels lie,
And living waters gently roll,
Fain would my thoughts leap out and fly,
But sin hangs heavy on my soul.

Thy wondrous blood, dear dying Christ,
Can make this world of guilt remove;
And Thou canst bear me where Thou fly’st,
On Thy kind wings, celestial Dove!

Oh might I once mount up and see
The glories of th’eternal skies;
What little things these worlds would be,
How despicable to my eyes!

Great ALL IN ALL, Eternal King,
Let me but view Thy lovely face;
And all my pow’rs shall bow, and sing
Thine endless grandeur and Thy grace.

Recordings none