I KNOW that I, a stranger
And pilgrim, here must roam,
Finding no rest, or portion,
Till Jesus takes me home.
O I’m yearning for the glory!
My heart sinks by the way:
Weeping I cry, “Come, Jesus,
I can no longer stay.”
But He answered, “Be not weary;
Thou canst suffer naught for me
When thou reignest in my glory,
If I tarry, patient be.
Ah! once as a fair witness
The Church for her Lord was set;
But now all lies in ruins,
No stones together left.
Her light is lost in darkness,
And little lamps flicker alone;
Surely their rays are useless,
Since the great light is gone.
But He spake in tones of love,
“E’en though all the darkness fill,
Thy small light is seen alters:
Let it shine in patience still:”
Must not I pine to see Him,
When I think of my cold heart,
That it cannot grasp His love
Whilst I know Him but in part!
How long before the day breaks!
How long before I rise
To meet my Lord of glory
With rapture in the skies!
And the answer came to soothe me,
“Only watch a little while;
All my strength and love is with thee;
And ye wait beneath my smile.”
I bow me to Thy word, Lord,
To labor, sing, and wait;
To watch for Thine appearing,
When the crooked shall be straight:
Knowing that, if Thou terriest,
Thou wouldst have me working on,―
Not murmuring at darkness,
Or, pining to be gone.
Only keep, me close beside Thee,
And hold my trembling hand,
And let me lean upon Thee,
Till I reach my own fair land.
Ah, thus I’ll wait, and love Thee
For Thy gracious delay:
The perils gather round me,
And straiter grows the way.
Though darkness gathers thicker,
And e’en love waxes cold,
May I but stand the firmer,
And tight Thy banner hold.
In patience I gaze upward,
And mine eyes are fix’d on Thee,
Hearkening to catch Thy voice, Lord,
Which will shout ma up to Thee.
A. C. C.