|
"And the Spirit and the
bride say, Come.....Even so,
come, Lord Jesus."—Rev. xxii. 17, 20.
Thank God that towards
eternity
Another step is won!
Oh, longing turns my heart to Thee
As time flows slowly on,
Thou Fountain whence my life is born,
Whence those rich streams of grace are drawn
That through my being run!
I count the hours, the days,
the years,
That stretch in tedious line,
Until, O Life, that hour appears,
When, at Thy touch divine,
Whate'er is mortal now in me
Shall be consumed for aye in Thee,
And deathless life be mine.
So glows Thy love within
this frame,
That, touch'd with keenest fire,
My whole soul kindles in the flame
Of one intense desire,
To he in Thee, and Thou in me,
And e'en while yet on earth to be
Still pressing closer, nigher!
Oh that I soon might Thee
behold!
I count the moments o'er;
Ah come, ere yet my heart grows cold
And cannot call Thee more!
Come in Thy glory, for Thy Bride
Hath girt her for the holy-tide,
And waiteth at the door.
And since Thy Spirit sheds
abroad
The oil of grace in me,
And Thou art inly near me, Lord,
And I am lost in Thee,
So shines in me the Living Light,
And steadfast bums my lamp and bright,
To greet Thee joyously.
I joy that from Thy love
divine
No power can part me now,
That I may dare to call Thee mine,
My Friend, my Lord, avow—
That I, O Prince of Life, shall be
Made wholly one in heaven with Thee;
My portion, Lord, art Thou!
And therefore do my thanks
o'erflow,
That one more year is gone,
And of this Time, so poor, so slow,
Another step is won;
And, with a heart that may not wait,
Toward yonder distant golden gate
I journey gladly on.
And when the wearied hands
grow weak,
And wearied knees give way,
To sinking faith, oh quickly speak,
And make Thine arm my stay;
That so my heart drink in new strength,
And I speed on, nor feel the length
Nor steepness of the way.
Then on, my soul, with
fearless faith,
Let nought thy terror move;
Nor aught that earthly pleasure saith
E'er tempt thy steps to rove;
If slow thy course seem o'er the waste,
Mount upwards with the eagle's haste,
On wings of tireless love.
O Jesus, all my soul hath
flown
Already up to Thee,
For Thou, in whom is love alone,
Hast wholly conquer'd me.
Farewell, ye phantoms, day and year,
Eternity is round me here.
Since, Lord, I live in Thee. |
