Jesus, Thou Joy of loving hearts

  Jesus is gone above the skies,
  Where our weak senses reach Him not;
  And carnal objects court our eyes,
  To thrust our Savior from our thought.
 

 He knows what wand’ring hearts we have,
  Apt to forget His lovely face;
  And, to refresh our minds, He gave
  These kind memorials of His grace.
 

 The Lord of life this table spread
  With His own flesh and dying blood;
  We on the rich provision feed,
  And taste the wine, and bless the God.
 

 Let sinful sweets be all forgot,
  And earth grow less in our esteem;
  Christ and His love fill every thought,
  And faith and hope be fixed on Him.
 

 While He is absent from our sight,
  ’Tis to prepare our souls a place,
  That we may dwell in heav’nly light,
  And live for ever near His face.
 

 Our eyes look upwards to the hills
  Whence our returning Lord shall come;
  We wait Thy chariot’s awesome wheels,
  To fetch our longing spirits home.


–preacher Isaac Watts (1674-1748 A.D.) 

L.M.; to “Quebec” Jesus, Thou Joy of loving hearts

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