Indexes for The Sacred Harp, 2025 Edition
381 Wells Second
Words: Isaac Watts, 1709
Music: David B. Wright, 2001
Meter: Common Meter (8,6,8,6)
Copyright: 2025 Sacred Harp Publishing Company
There is a house not made with hands,
Eternal and on high;
And here my spirit waiting stands,
Till God shall bid it fly.
Shortly this prison of my clay
Must be dissolved and fall;
Then, O my soul, with joy obey
Thy heav’nly Father’s call.
I long to see my friends again,
And hear them sweetly say:
“Come, weary dove, here is thy home,
Then fold thy wings and stay.”
Eternal and on high;
And here my spirit waiting stands,
Till God shall bid it fly.
Shortly this prison of my clay
Must be dissolved and fall;
Then, O my soul, with joy obey
Thy heav’nly Father’s call.
I long to see my friends again,
And hear them sweetly say:
“Come, weary dove, here is thy home,
Then fold thy wings and stay.”