COME, let us anew Our journey pursue, With vigour arise, And press to our permanent place in the skies.
Of heavenly birth, Though wandering on earth, This is not our place; But strangers and pilgrims ourselves we confess.
The Saviour did call, We gave up our all; And still we forgo For Jesus’ dear sake our enjoyments below.
No longing we find For the country behind; But onward we move, And still we are seeking a country above:
A country of joy, And free from alloy, We thither repair: Our hearts and our treasure already are there.
The rougher our way, The shorter our stay; The tempests that rise Shall gloriously hurry our souls to the skies.
Charles Wesley, 1707-88