SWEET place, sweet place alone, The Court of God Most High, The Heaven of heavens, the throne Of spotless majesty!
O happy place! When shall I be, My God, with Thee, And see Thy face?
The stranger homeward bends, So longing for his rest: Heav’n is my home; my friends Lodge there in Abraham’s breast.
Life’s but a sorry tent, Pitched for a few frail days, A short-leased tenement; Heaven is my song, my praise:
No tears from any eyes Fall in that holy choir; But death itself there dies, And sighs themselves expire.
There shall temptations cease, There shall my frailties end; There shall I rest in peace, Embraced by my best Friend.
Samuel Crossman, 1624-83