Dark grows the night. The Bride, her vigil keeping,
Looks for the morning star, herald of day.
While all around, a careless world is sleeping,
Faith waits, and looks to see the morning ray.

Soon Thou wilt come-oh, blest anticipation! –
And we shall gaze unhindered on Thy face;
Our longing hope shall have its glad fruition,
And in "those wounds" we shall love's story trace.

Oh, cloudless morn of heavenly light and gladness,
When God Himself shall wipe all tears away!
There shall be no more death and no more sadness,
No trace of sin through God's eternal day.

Oh, haste the day, when waiting shall be over!
Come quickly, and fulfil Thy parting word!
We long to see Thy face, eternal Lover!
With yearning hearts we say, "Come quickly, Lord."

But well we know that Thine's the deeper longing,
To rapture home with Thee Thy ransomed Bride.
Through the dark night, our patient vigil keeping,
In patience near Thee we would e'er abide.

"Arise, My love," we soon shall hear Thee saying,
"And come away" to scenes of light and love.
The day of gladness then no more delaying,
With joy Thou'lt bear Thy purchased Bride above.

And there with Thee we shall rehearse the story,
Thy faithful love in desert, scenes below;
And walking with Thee in that cloudless glory,
To Thee our endless praise shall ceaseless flow.

Until that day, Lord Jesus, keep us faithful
To Thy blest Word, and not deny Thy Name!
Oh, shield Thine own from every harm and evil,
Content to suffer loss and bear Thy shame!

J. W. H. Nichols