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Isaac Watts - Hymn 110Isaac Watts - Hymn 110
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Death and immediate glory. 2 Cor. 5:1,5-8. There is a house not made with hands, Eternal and on high; And here my spirit waiting stands, Till God shall bid it fly. Shortly this prison of my clay Must be dissolved and fall; Then, O my soul! with joy obey Thy heav`nly Father`s call. `Tis he, by his almighty grace, That forms thee fit for heav`n; And, as an earnest of the place, Has his own Spirit giv`n. We walk by faith of joys to come, Faith lives upon his word; But while the body is our home, We`re absent from the Lord. `Tis pleasant to believe thy grace, But we had rather see; We would be absent from the flesh, And present, Lord, with thee.
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