The sun above us gleaming Is not the sun for me; Though joyful be his beaming, And beautiful to see; There is a Sun of Righteousness Who cheers and saves me by his grace, All copious on me streaming, O that’s the Sun for me. 2 The kings and lords of nations, Are not the kings for me; Too low their highest stations; Too mean their dignity: The King of kings and Lord of lords, Almighty in his ways and words, The word of his salvation, O that’s the king for me. 3 This house of death and mourning Is not the house for me, Where all to dust are turning, In tears and agony; But there’s a house not made with hands, It ever stood and ever stands, Beyond the world’s last burning; O that’s the house for me. 4 The wars the hero fights in, Are not the wars for me; The war my heart delights in, Shall end in victory; ’Tis not a war of flesh and blood; I fight for heaven, I fight for God, A kingdom with my rights in,— O that’s the war for me. 5 This land of sin and sorrow, Is not the land for me, Where anguish oft I borrow From dying company; Th’ immortal land is far away, I’ll enter it on some bright day, That day may be to-morrow— O that’s the land for me. 893 11s. Whereas I was blind, now I see. John. 9:25. O Saviour whose mercy, severe in its kindness, Hath chastened my wanderings and guided my way, Adored be the power that hath pitied my blindness, And weaned me from phantoms that smiled to betray. 2 Enchanted with all that was dazzling and fair, I followed the rainbow—I caught at the toy; And still in displeasure thy goodness was there, Disappointing the hope, and defeating the joy. 3 The blossom blushed bright, but a worm was below; The moonlight shone fair, there was blight in the beam; Sweet whispered the breeze, but it whispered of woe; And bitterness flowed in the soft, flowing stream. 4 So, cured of my folly, yet cured but in part, I turned to the refuge thy pity displayed; And still did this eager and credulous heart Weave visions of promise, that bloomed but to fade. 5 I thought that the course of the pilgrim to heaven Would be bright as the summer, and glad as the morn; Thou showedst me the path, it was dark and uneven; All rugged with rock, and all tangled with thorn. 6 I dreamed of celestial reward and renown, I grasped at the triumph that blesses the brave; I asked for the palm branch, the robe, and the crown, I asked, and thou showedst me the cross and a grave! 7 Subdued and instructed, at length to thy will, My hopes, and my wishes, my all I resign; O give me a heart that can wait and be still, Nor know of a wish or a pleasure but thine.