Hymnal: The Christian Psalmist
Date: 1848
Compiler: S W Leonard and A D Fillmore
Publisher/Printer: S W Leonard
First Line: How vain are all things here below
Topic: <no topic given>
Writer: <no first name given> <no last name given>
Composer:
Meter: CM
Tune:
Hymn Number: 119
Page Number: 155, click to see hymnal pages
LyicsWe've no abiding city here,
This may distress the worlding's mind:
But should not cost the saint a tear,
Who hopes a better rest to find.
We've no abiding city here,
Sad truth, were this to be our home:
'But let this thought our spirits cheer,
We seek a city yet to come.
We've no abiding city here,
Then let us live as pilgrims do;
Let not the world our rest appear,
But let us haste from all below.
We've no abiding city here,
We seek a city out of sight:
Zion its name - we'll soon be there,
It shines with everlasting light.
Zion! - Jehovah is her strength!
Secure she smiles at all her foes:
And weary travelers at length
Within her sacred walls repose.
O sweet abode of peace and love,
Where pilgrims freed from toil are blest:
Had I the pinions of the dove,
I'd fly to thee, and be at rest.
But hush, my soul, nor dare repine!
The time my God appoints is best:
While here to do his will be mine;
And His to fix my time of rest.