We know we shall hear Him, yonder-
When His shout sounds in the air,
When His voice shall fill the heavens
With His "joy exceeding" there.
But 'tis now that, afar from turmoil,
Our hearts and souls can rise
And list to the Voice that telleth
Of the things beyond the skies.
We know we shall see Him, yonder—
When we meet Him in the air,
Ah, what shall our gaze enrapture
Save that once-marred Face so fair!
But 'tis now, from the midst of darkness
Updrawn by His love divine,
Faith looks at the radiant glories
That from His Person shine.
We know we shall praise Him, yonder—
Where all extol His Name,
Where universal voices
Repeat His glorious fame;
But 'tis here where He's scorned and hated,
It is now, midst trial and loss,
We may tell His worth and sufferings-
The virtues of His cross.
And we shall be like Him, yonder—
When we see Him as He is
In that Home of unclouded glory,
In His realm of perfect bliss.
But 'tis now, amidst scenes unlovely,
Where are conflicts, griefs, and foes,
That the light may be known by its shining,
And the love by the grace it shows.