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.

Here would I feed upon the bread of God,

Here drink with thee the royal wine of heav’n;

Here would I lay aside each earthly load,

Here taste afresh the calm of sin forgiven.

I have no help but thine; nor do I need

Another arm save thee to lean upon;

It is enough, my Lord, enough indeed;

My strength is in thy might, thy might alone.

Mine is the sin, but thine the righteousness;

Mine is the guilt, but thine the cleansing-blood;

Here is my robe, my refuge, and my peace;

Thy blood, Thy righteousness, O Lord, my God.

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 there,

Nearer than ever, still my shield and sun.

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.