The Bride

 •  1 min. read
 
Midst the darkness, storm, and sorrow,
One bright gleam I see;
Well I know the blessed morrow
Christ will come for me.
Midst the light, and peace, and glory
Of the Father’s home,
Christ for me is watching, waiting,
Waiting till I come.
Long the blessed Guide has led me,
By the desert road;
Now I see the golden towers,
City of my God.
There amidst the love and glory
He is waiting yet;
On His hands a name is graven
He can ne’er forget.
Who is this, Who comes to meet me,
On the desert way,
As the Morning Star foretelling
God’s unclouded day?
He it is Who came to win me,
On the cross of shame;
In His glory well I know Him
Ever-more the same.
There amidst the songs of Heaven,
Sweeter to His ear
Is the footfall through the desert
Ever drawing near.
There, made ready, are the mansions
Glorious, bright and fair,
But the Bride the Father gave Him
Still is wanting there.
O the blessed joy of meeting,
All the desert past,
O the wondrous words of greeting
He shall speak at last!
He and I together entering,
Those fair courts above;
He and I together sharing
All the Father’s love.
Where no shade nor stain can enter,
Nor the gold be dim,
In that holiness unsullied,
I shall walk with Him.
Meet companion then for Jesus,
From Him, for Him, made—
Glory of God’s grace forever
There in me displayed.
He Who in His hour of sorrow
Bore the curse alone;
I who through the lonely desert
Trod where He had gone;
He and I, in that bright glory,
One deep joy shall share—
Mine, to be forever with Him;
His, that I am there