Pleasant are Thy courts above, <br />In the land of light and love; <br />Pleasant are Thy courts below <br />In this land of sin and woe; <br />O, my spirit longs and faints <br />For the converse of Thy saints, <br />For the brightness of Thy face, <br />For Thy fullness, God of grace. <br /> <br />Happy birds that sing and fly <br />Round Thy altars, O most High; <br />Happier souls that find a rest <br />In a heavenly Father’s breast; <br />Like the wandering dove that found <br />No repose on earth around, <br />They can to their ark repair, <br />And enjoy it ever there. <br /> <br />Happy souls, their praises flow <br />Even in this vale of woe; <br />Waters in the desert rise, <br />Manna feeds them from the skies; <br />On they go from strength to strength, <br />Till they reach Thy throne at length, <br />At Thy feet adoring fall, <br />Who hast led them safe through all. <br /> <br />Lord, be mine this prize to win, <br />Guide me through a world of sin, <br />Keep me by Thy saving grace, <br />Give me at Thy side a place; <br />Sun and shield alike Thou art, <br />Guide and guard my erring heart. <br />Grace and glory flow from Thee; <br />Shower, O shower them, Lord, on me.<br /><br />Henry Francis Lyte<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/pleasant-are-thy-courts-above/