O THE delights, the heavenly joys, The glories of the place Where Jesus sheds the brightest beams Of overflowing grace!
Sweet majesty and lasting love Sit smiling on His brow, And all the glorious ranks above At humble distance bow.
Those sacred, blessèd feet of His, That ragged nails once tore, High on a throne of light they stand, And all the saints adore.
His head, that dear majestic head That cruel thorns did wound, See what immortal glories shine, And circle it around!
This is our Lord, the exalted Man, Whom we by faith adore; But when our eyes behold His face, Our hearts shall love Him more.
Isaac Watts, 1674-1748