Christ the Supreme Beauty

Should nature's charms, to please the eye,
In sweet assemblage join,
All nature's charms would droop and die,
Jesus, compared with thine.

Vain were her fairest beams display'd,
And vain her blooming store;
Ev'n brightness languishes to shade,
And beauty is no more.

But ah, how far from mortal sight,
The Lord of glory dwells!
A veil of interposing night
His radiant face conceals.

O could my longing spirit rise
On strong immortal wing,
And reach thy palace in the skies,
My Saviour, and my king!

There myriads worship at thy feet,
And there, (divine employ!)
The triumphs of thy love repeat,
In songs of endless joy.

Thy presence beams eternal day,
O'er all the blissful place;
Who would not drop this load of clay,
And die to see thy face?