CCXCVIII. Thanks for being made meet for the heavenly Inheritance.

ALL-Glorious GOD, what Hymns of Praise
Shall our transported Voices raise?
What flaming Love and Zeal is due,
While Heav'n stands open to our View?

Once we were fall'n, and O how low!
Just on the Brink of endless Woe;
Doom'd to a Heritage in Hell,
Where Sinners all in Darkness dwell.

But lo, a Ray of chearful Light
Scatters the horrid Shades of Night!
Lo, what triumphant Grace is shewn
To Souls impov'rish'd and undone!

Far, far beyond these mortal Shores
A bright Inheritance is ours;
Where Saints in Light our Coming wait
To share their holy blissful State.

If ready drest for Heav'n we shine,
Thine are the Robes, the Crown is thine:
May endless Years their Course prolong,
While "Thine the Praise" is all our Song.