Indexes for The Sacred Harp, 1991 Edition

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.
Should earth against my soul engage,
And fiery darts be hurled;
Then I can smile at Satan’s rage,
And face a frowning world.

There I shall bathe my weary soul
In seas of heav’nly rest,
And not a wave of trouble roll
Across my peaceful breast.
When we’ve been there ten thousand years,
Bright shining as the sun;
We’ve no less days to sing God’s praise
Than when we first begun.