Here, O my Lord, I see thee face to face;

Here would I touch and handle things unseen;

Here grasp with firmer hand the eternal grace,

And all my weariness upon thee lean.

2 Here would I feed upon the bread of God;

Here drink with thee the royal wine of heaven;

Here would I lay aside each earthly load,

Here taste afresh the calm of sin forgiven.

3 Too soon we rise; the symbols disappear;

The feast, though not the love, is passed and gone:

The bread and wine remove, but thou art here—

Nearer than ever—still my Shield and Sun.

4 Feast after feast thus comes and passes by;

Yet, passing, points to the glad feast above—

Giving sweet foretaste of the festal joy,

The Lamb’s great bridal feast of bliss and love.