HYMN 9. 4 8s & 2 6s

1 How happy is the pilgrim’s lot;
How free from every anxious thought,
From worldly hope and fear!
Confined to neither court nor cell,
His soul disdains on earth to dwell,
He only sojourns here.MIM 15.1

2 This happiness in part is mine,
Already saved from low design,
From every creature love!
Blest with the scorn of finite good,
My soul is lightened of its load,
And seeks the things above.MIM 15.2

3 The things eternal I pursue;
A happiness beyond the view
Of those that basely pant For things by nature felt and seen;
Their honors, wealth, and pleasures mean,
I neither have nor want.MIM 15.3

4 No foot of land do I possess,
No cottage in this wilderness;
A poor, way faring mans
I lodge awhile in tents below,
Or gladly wander to and fro,
Till I my Canaan gain.MIM 16.1

5 Nothing on earth I call my own;
A stranger, to the world unknown,
I all their goods despise;
I trample on their whole delight,
And seek a city out of sight,
A city in the skies.MIM 16.2

6 There is my house and portion fair;
My treasure and my heart are there,
And my abiding home.
For me my elder brethren stay,
And angels beckon me away,
And Jesus bids me come!MIM 16.3

7 I come! thy servant, Lord, replies;
I come to meet thee in the skies,
And claim my heavenly rest! Now let the pilgrim’s journey end;
Now, O my Savior, Brother, Friend,
Receive me to thy breast!MIM 16.4