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As when the weary trav’ller gains
While he surveys the much-loy'd spot, He slights the space which lies between; His past fatigues are now forgot, Because his journey's end is seen:
Thus, when the Christian Pilgrim views
The thought of home his spirit cheers,
“'Tis there,” he says, “ I am to dwell
Jesus, on Thee our hope depends,
WHAT sinners value, I resign;
This life's a dream, an empty show;
O glorious hour! O blest abode !
God! And flesh and sin no more control The sacred pleasures of the soul.
My flesh shall slumber in the ground
RELIGION walks not in the noonday blaze,