Related:

• Fly, like a youthful hart or roe, Over the hills where spices grow.
  -- Isaac Watts (1674-1748) -- Hymns and Spiritual Songs, Book i, Hymn 79...
• Hark! from the tombs a doleful sound.
  -- Isaac Watts (1674-1748) -- Hymns and Spiritual Songs, Book ii, Hymn 63...
• Strange that a harp of thousand strings Should keep in tune so long!
  -- Isaac Watts (1674-1748) -- Hymns and Spiritual Songs, Book ii, Hymn 19...
• The tall, the wise, the reverend head Must lie as low as ours.
  -- Isaac Watts (1674-1748) -- Hymns and Spiritual Songs, Book ii, Hymn 63...
• There is a land of pure delight, Where saints immortal reig
  Infinite day excludes the night, And pleasures banish pain....
• When I can read my title clear To mansions in the skies, I 'll bid farewell to every fear, And wipe my weeping eyes.
  -- Isaac Watts (1674-1748) -- Hymns and Spiritual Songs, Book ii, Hymn 65...
• So, when a raging fever burns, We shift from side to side by tu
  And 't is a poor relief we gain To change the place, but keep the pain....
• I have been there, and still would go; 'T is like a little heaven below.
  -- Isaac Watts (1674-1748) -- Divine Songs, Song xxviii...
• Bart: Hymns, here! I got hymns, here. Get 'em while they're holy.
  Fresh from God's brain to your mouth. Heh heh heh....