Fain Would I Leave The World Below,
Of Pain And Sin The Dark Abode,
Where Shadowy Joy Or Solid Woe
Allures Or Tears Me From My God;
Doubtful And Insecure Of Bliss,
Since Faith Alone Confirms Me His.
Till Then, To Sorrow Born, I Sigh,
And Gasp And Languish After Home;
Upward I Send My Streaming Eye,
Expecting Till The Bridegroom Come:
Come Quickly, Lord! Thy Own Receive;
Now Let Me See Thy Face, And Live.
Absent From Thee, My Exiled Soul
Deep In A Fleshly Dungeon Groans;
Around Me Clouds Of Darkness Roll,
And Labouring Silence Speaks My Moans:
Come Quickly, Lord! Thy Face Display,
And Look My Darkness Into Day.
Sorrow, And Sin, And Death Are Over,
If Thou Reverse The Creature’s Doom;
Sad Rachel Weeps Her Loss No More,
If Thou, The God, The Saviour Come;
Of Thee Possessed, In Thee We Prove
The Light, The Life, The Heaven Of Love.