Lord, as my days on this earth decrease, and grow less,
I thank You that the hope and happiness
of Heaven's propsect grows ever and always nearer,
ever and always more real, and the more dearer;
more than those early in life might suppose
(far more than any doubts expressed by any fearer).
And churches (no more high or low) but the small and close
shall rejoice in the privilege of assured Salvation,
which has been, and forever shall be, their souls' chief exultation.
And I, even I, whom the Lord has also, mercifully, called
by Name (and who have been, too recently, too foolishly, enthralled
by other distractions) declare in this poem, and all my Poetry,
how good, and faithful, and tolerant the Lord has been to me;
and how I long to dwell with Him in His triumphant eternity.
J-Called