Ye Angels, who stand round the Throne

Ye Angels, who stand round the throne,

And see my Immanuel’s face,

In rapturous songs make him known,

Tune, tune your soft harps to his praise:

He form’d you the Spirits you are,

So noble, so happy, so good,

While others sunk down in despair,

Confirm’d by his power, you stood.

Ye Saints, who stand nearer than they,

And cast your bright crowns at his feet,

His Grace and his Glory display,

O tell of his love as is meet;

He sav’d you from Hell, and the Grave,

He ransom’d from Death and Despair,

For you he was mighty to save,

Almighty to bring you safe there.

O when will the period appear

When I shall unite in your song!

I’m weary of lingering here,

And I to your Saviour belong!

I’m fetter’d, and chain’d up in clay,

I struggle and pant to be free,

I long to be soaring away,

My God and my Saviour to see.

I want to put on my attire,

Wash’d white in the blood of the Lamb,

I want to be one of your choir,

And tune my sweet harp to his name:

I want – O I want to be there,

(Where sorrow and sin bid adieu,)

Your Joy and your Friendship to share,

To wonder and worship with you.

Text: Maria de Fleury, Divine Poems and Essays on Various Subjects (London: Printed for the Author, and sold by T. Wilkins, Aldermanbuy; by Bellamy and Roberts, No. 202, Strand; M. Trapp, No. 1, Pater-noster Row; Mr. Nott [Knott], Lombard Street; M. Gurney, No. 128, Holborn; and by the Author, No. 31, Jewin-street, 1791), pp. 95-96.