CLII.
[O Thou, with whom unfelt, unseen]
O Thou, with whom unfelt, unseen,
Still in the desert I abide,
Look through the lowering cloud between,
And show Thyself my heavenly Guide.
Out of the fire of chastening love
Send forth one kind instructive ray,
And give the signal to remove,
And kindle darkness into day.
Till Thou Thy secret will declare,
And shine in pure, unerring light,
I groan with all Thy church to bear
The burden of incumbent night.
For Thee, not without hope, we mourn,
For Thee in calm dependence wait,
Assured Thou wilt at last return,
And raise us to our first estate.
The dark apostasy shall end,
The Babel of religions cease,
The church shall with her Head ascend,
And quit this howling wilderness;
Shall yet again Thy tokens see,
Behold Thy glorious presence shine,
And prove, from sin and doubt set free,
The good, the perfect will Divine.
That God-revealing Spirit of grace
Thou wilt in all His fulness give,
And never more conceal Thy face,
And never more Thy people leave.
But who the kingdom shall behold,
Who, when the Lord doth this, shall live?
“I will come back” (my heart He told)
“And thee unto Myself receive.”
So be it, O my God, my Lord,
In whom I steadfastly confide,
I trust the sure inspoken word,
And patient by Thy cross abide.
For all who Thine appearing love,
For me Thou hast prepared a place,
And I shall meet Thee from above,
And I shall see Thy open face.
Whether Thy will ordain my stay
To see Thy general kingdom come,
Or snatch me from the evil day,
And take my gasping spirit home:
Happy, if with my Best-beloved
I live to share the gospel-feast,
But happier still, if now removed,
I find my everlasting rest.
Wherefore with meekest awe to Thee
My time, my life, my all I leave;
Eternal Wisdom choose for me,
And when, and as Thou wilt, receive.
Or come in perfect light and love,
To me, to all Thy people given,
Or come Thy servant to remove,
And take me to Thyself in heaven.
