There Is a House Not Made with Hands Lyrics

There is a house not made with hands
Eternal and on high
And here my spirit waiting stands
Till God shall bid it fly

Shortly this prison of my clay
Must be dissolved and fall
Then, O my soul! with joy obey
Thy heav'nly Father's call

'Tis He, by His almighty grace
That forms Thee fit for Heav'n
And, as an earnest of the place
Has His own Spirit giv'n

We walk by faith of joys to come
Faith lives upon His Word
But while the body is our home
We're absent from the Lord

'Tis pleasant to believe Thy grace
But we had rather see
We would be absent from the flesh
And present, Lord, with Thee

There is a house not made with hands
Eternal and on high
And here my spirit waiting stands
Till God shall bid it fly

Fly