OH! WHEN SHALL I MEET THEE?
Oh! when shall I meet thee, my Saviour,
And gaze on thy glorious face,
And dwell evermore in thy favor,
Enclasped in thy tender embrace?
In patience, yet longing, we linger,
I know thou art thinking of me,
And I wait for the word that shall bring me
On wings of the morning to thee. I pine for the city of beauty,
Where trouble and sorrow shall cease,
Where joy and rejoicing forever
Shall gladden the gardens of peace.
Where eyes that are dimmed with their weeping
Shall kindle with luster divine,
And earth-faded forms re-created
With love’s wondrous beauty shall shine. Oh! when shall these glad eyes behold thee,
This voice swell the jubilant song,
These weary feet fleet as the angels,
Move on with the garlanded throng—
Move on in harmonious measure,
With harp and with psalm to adore,
And crown thee, O lovely Redeemer,
Our glorious king evermore! —Sel.