Theodora, HWV 68: But why art thou disquieted

But why art thou disquieted, my soul?
Hark! Heav'n invites thee in sweet rapt'rous strains,
To join the ever-singing, ever-loving choir
Of saints and angels in the courts above.
Oh, that I on wings could rise,
Swiftly sailing through the skies,
As skims the silver dove!
That I might rest,
For ever blest,
With harmony and love.
Oh, that I on wings...