Indexes for The Sacred Harp, 1991 Edition
114 Saint’s Delight
Words: Isaac Watts, 1707
Music: F. Price, 1835
Meter: Common Meter (8,6,8,6)
When I can read my title clear
To mansions in the skies,
I’ll bid farewell to ev’ry fear,
And wipe my weeping eyes.
Chorus:
I feel like I’m on my journey home.
Should earth against my soul engage,
And fiery darts be hurled,
Then I can smile at Satan’s rage,
And face a frowning world.
(Chorus)
Let cares like a wild deluge come,
Let storms of sorrow fall;
So I but safely reach my home,
My God, my heav’n my all.
(Chorus)
There I shall bathe my weary soul
In seas of heav’nly rest,
And not a wave of trouble roll
Across my peaceful breast.
To mansions in the skies,
I’ll bid farewell to ev’ry fear,
And wipe my weeping eyes.
Chorus:
I feel like I’m on my journey home.
Should earth against my soul engage,
And fiery darts be hurled,
Then I can smile at Satan’s rage,
And face a frowning world.
(Chorus)
Let cares like a wild deluge come,
Let storms of sorrow fall;
So I but safely reach my home,
My God, my heav’n my all.
(Chorus)
There I shall bathe my weary soul
In seas of heav’nly rest,
And not a wave of trouble roll
Across my peaceful breast.