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The Bride

P. G.

John xiv. 3

'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.

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,

Radiant, still, and fair;

But the Bride the Father gave Him

Yet is wanting there.

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

Evermore the same.

Oh the blessed joy of meeting,

All the desert past!

Oh 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 for ever

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 for ever with Him;

His, that I am there.

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