Yea, they who fear the Lord will often speak
To kindred souls their heavenward thoughts, and seek
That balm of heaven, a sympathy Divine
With hearts which golden cords of love entwine
In sweet communion. Yea, their tears and sighs,
Their prayers and praises, pierce the upper skies.
Jehovah, listening, hears. At His command
In heaven's bright records fair inscribed they stand,
Whose thoughts, with reverent love and filial fear,
Dwell on His name and feel Him ever near.
O blest assurance! hear the words Divine,-
'Thus saith the Lord of Hosts, they shall be mine;
For ever mine: fair jewels, to adorn
My sovereign crown when dawns the eternal morn!
As sons belov'd who serv'd me shall they share
My watchful love, my own peculiar care.'
Father in heaven, how far beyond, above
An earthly father's thy paternal love.