Michael Wigglesworth (1631—1705)
Their eternal happiness and incomparable glory there.
Oh glorious Place! where face to face
Jehovah may be seen,
By such as were sinners while here,
and no dark veil between!
Where the Sunshine and light Divine
of God’s bright countenance,
Doth rest upon them every one,
with sweetest influence!
Oh blessed state of the Renate!
Oh wond’rous happiness.
To which they’re brought beyond what thought
can reach or words express!
Grief’s watercourse and sorrow’s source
are turn’d to joyful streams;
Their old distress and heaviness
are vanished like dreams.
For God above in arms of love
doth dearly them embrace.
And fills their sprights with such delights,
and pleasures in his Grace,
As shall not fail, nor yet grow stale,
through frequency of use;
Nor do they fear God’s favor there
to forfeit by abuse.
For there the Saints are perfect Saints,
and holy ones indeed;
From all the sin that dwelt within
their mortal bodies freed;
Made Kings and Priests to God through Christ’s
dear Love’s transcendency,
There to remain and there to reign
with him Eternally.