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The Hope of Heaven (Primrose Hill) 43

Alto: Wilson Marion Cooper, 1902
Lyrics: Isaac Watts, 1707
Meter: Common Meter (8,6,8,6)
When I can read my title clear
To mansions in the skies,
Iíll bid farewell to evíry fear,
And wipe my weeping eyes.

Should earth against my soul engage,
And fiery darts by hurled,
Then I can smile at Satanís rage,
And face a frowning world.

Let cares like a wild deluge come,
And storms of sorrow fall!
May I but safely reach my home,
My God, my heavín, my all.

There I shall bathe my weary soul
In seas of heavínly rest,
And not a wave of trouble roll
Across my peaceful breast.