Here have we no continuing city, but we seek one to come.
Heb. xiii. 14.
Benjamin Schmolck. 1672-1737.
Frances E. Cox. Tr. 1864
Heavenward still our pathway tends; Here on earth we are but strangers; Till our road in Canaan ends, Safely passed this wild of dangers, Pilgrims we, a scattered band, Seek above our Fatherland. | Heavenward still my soul ascend! Thou art one of heaven’s creations; Earth can ne’er give aim or end Fit to fill thy aspirations: Turns a heaven-illumined mind Evermore its source to find. | Heavenward still! God’s volume blest, Thus, throughout its sacred pages, Calls me on, and speaks of rest, Rest with Him through endless ages; While my heart that call attends, Still to heaven my path ascends. | Heavenward still my thoughts arise, When His festal board invites me; Then my spirit upward flies, Foretaste then of heaven delights me: When on earth this food has ceased Comes the Lamb’s own Marriage-feast. | Heavenward still my spirit wends, That fair land by faith exploring; Heavenward still my heart ascends, Sun and moon and stars out-soaring; Their faint rays in vain would try Once with light of heaven to vie. | Heavenward still, when life shall close, Death to my true home shall guide me; There, triumphant o’er my woes, Lasting bliss shall God provide me; Christ Himself the way has led, Joyful in His steps I tread. | Still then heavenward! heavenward still! That shall be my watchword ever! Joys of heaven my heart shall fill, Chasing joys that filled it never: Heavenward still my thoughts shall run, Till the gate of heaven is won. | |