Let others boast their ancient line,

In long succession great;

In the proud list let heroes shine,

And monarchs swell the state,

Descended from the King of kings,

Each saint a nobler title sings.

2 Pronounce me, gracious God, thy son,

Own me an heir divine;

I’ll pity princes on the throne,

When I can call thee mine:

Scepters and crowns unenvied rise,

And lose their luster in my eyes.

3 Content, obscure, I pass my days,

To all I meet unknown,

And wait till thou thy child shalt raise,

And seat me near thy throne:

No name, no honors here I crave,

Well pleased with those beyond the grave.

4 Jesus, my elder brother, lives;

With him I, too, shall reign;

Nor sin, nor death, while he survives,

Shall make the promise vain;

In him my title stands secure,

And shall while endless years endure.

5 When he, in robes divinely bright,

Shall once again appear,

Thou, too, my soul, shalt shine in light,

And his full image bear:

Enough!—I wait th’ appointed day—

Blessed Saviour, haste, and come away!