When at this distance, Lord, we trace
The various glories of Thy face,
What transport pours o’er all our breast,
And charms our cares and woes to rest!

Away, ye dreams of mortal joy;
Raptures divine my thoughts employ:
I see the King of glory shine,
And feel His love, and call Him mine.

On Tabor thus His servants viewed
His luster, when transformed He stood;
And, bidding earthly scenes farewell,
Cried, “Lord, ‘tis pleasant here to dwell!”

Yet still our elevated eyes
To nobler visions long to rise;
That grand assembly would we join,
Where all Thy saints around Thee shine.

Philip Doddridge

Copied from my grandmother’s hymnal, Hymn Book, Methodist Episcopal Church, South: Nashville, TN, 1901, Hymn #86.

Note: The hymns in this hymnal are not titled. So when I do not know the hymn, I make up a title or simply use the first line.

Photo taken in Milton, FL, 2018

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