O Tell me No More

O tell me no more of this world’s vain store,
The time for such trifles with me now is o’er;
A country I’ve found where true joys abound,
To dwell I’m determined on that happy ground.

The souls that believe in paradise live,
And me in that number will Jesus receive;
My soul, don’t delay; He calls thee away;
Rise, follow thy Savior, and bless the glad day.

No mortal doth know what He can bestow,
What light, strength, and comfort—go after Him, go;
Lo, onward I move to a city above,
None guesses how wondrous my journey will prove.

Great spoils I shall win from death, hell, and sin,
’Midst outward afflictions shall feel Christ within;
And when I’m to die, “Receive me,” I’ll cry,
For Jesus hath loved me, I cannot tell why:

But this I do find, we two are so joined,
He’ll not in live in glory and leave me behind;
So this is the race I’m running through grace,
Henceforth, till admitted to see my Lord’s face.

And now I’m in care my neighbors may share
These blessings: to seek them will none of you dare?
In bondage, O why, and death will you lie,
When One here assures you free grace is so nigh?