We long, blessed Lord, Thy coming to see,-
To enter the mansions made ready by Thee,-
To gaze on Thy beauties in bliss without end,-
To dwell with Thee, spotless, dear Saviour and Friend.

This world is a vale of sin and of tears,
And tardily move its sorrowful years;
Creation is doomed to travail in pain
Till Thou shalt appear to bless her again.

The moments seem longer because of Thy love,
Known only by those who are born from above;
They can not refrain, but constantly cry
"Come, take us away to be with Thee on high."

Appear in Thy glory, Thy power display,
Oh, end this sad night, and bring in the glad day;
And reign on Thy throne, as by prophets foretold,
Thy kingly "beauty," yes, fully unfold.

R. H.