In heaven my choicest treasure lies,

In heaven my choicest treasure lies,
My hopes are placed above the skies;
'Tis Christ, the bright and Morning Star,
Draws my affections from afar.

O that my anxious mind were free
From this vile tenement of clay,
That I might view the immortal Word,
And live and reign with Christ my Lord.

Then should I see, and feel, and know,
What 'tis to rest from sin and woe;
And all my soul be tuned to sing
The praises due to Christ my King.

Hail, blessed time! Lord, bid me come,
And enter my celestial home,
And drown the sorrows of my breast,
In seas of unmolested rest.