Felicity

No 'tis in vain to seek for bliss;
For bliss can never be found
'Till we arrive where Jesus is,
And tread on heavenly ground

There's nothing round these painted skies,
Or round this dusty clod;
Nothing, my soul, that's worth thy joys,
Or lovely as thy God.

'Tis Heaven on earth to taste his love,
To feel his quick'ning grace;
And all the Heaven I hope above,
Is but to see his face.

- Issac Watts (1674-1748)