Fly, Ye Seasons

Fly

ye sea­sons

fly still fast­er;

Let the glo­ri­ous day come on

When we shall be­hold our mas­ter

Seated on His heav­en­ly throne;

Then the Sav­ior

Shall des­cend to claim His own.

What is earth with all its trea­sures

To the joy the Gos­pel brings?

Well may we re­sign its plea­sures

Jesus gives us bet­ter things;

All His peo­ple

Draw from Heav­en’s eter­nal springs.

But if here we taste of plea­sure

What will Heav­en itself af­ford?

There our joy will know no mea­sure;

There we shall be­hold our Lord;

There His people

Shall ob­tain their bright re­ward.

Fly

ye sea­sons

fly still fast­er;

Swiftly bring the glo­ri­ous day;

Jesus

come

our Lord and mas­ter!

Come from Heav­en with­out de­lay;

Take Thy peo­ple

Take

O take us hence away!