1 O joyful sound of gospel-grace,
Christ shall in me appear!
I, even I, shall see his face;
I shall be holy here.

2 The glorious crown of righteousness
To me reach'd out I view;
Conqu'ror through him, I soon shall seize
And wear it as my due.

3 The promised land from Pisgah’s top,
I now exult to see;
My hope is full (O glorious hope!)
Of immortality.

4 He visits now this house of clay;
He shakes his future home;
O would'st thou, Lord, on this glad day,
Into thy temple come.

5 With me, I know, I feel thou art,
But this cannot suffice,
Unless thou plantest in my heart
A constant paradise.

6 My earth thou wat'rest from on high,
But make it all a pool:
Spring up, O well, I ever cry,
Spring up within my soul.

7 Come, O my God, thyself reveal!
Fill all this mighty void;
Thou only canst my spirit fill;
Come, O my God, my God!

8 Fulfil, fulfil my large desires,
Large as infinity!
Give, give me all my soul requires,
All, all that is in thee!