C.M. sung to Belmont 1 O LORD, of Thee we ne'er would tire; The new and living food Can satisfy our heart's desire; And life is in Thy blood. 2 If such the happy midnight song Our prisoned spirits raise, What are the joys that cause, ere long, Eternal bursts of praise? 3 To look within and see no stain, Abroad no curse to trace; To shed no tears, to feel no pain, But see Thee face to face. 4 To find each hope of glory gained, Fulfilled each precious word; And fully all to have attained The image of our Lord. 5 For this we're pressing onward still; And in this hope would be More subject to the Father's will, E'en now much more like Thee. | Alternative tunes (C.M.) |