“It Doth Not Yet Appear What We Shall Be”

Ye lingering hours, wheel swift away,
And usher in the joyful day,

Ye lingering hours, wheel swift away,
And usher in the joyful day,
When, rising from a world like this,
My soul shall dwell where Jesus is!

Too long I’ve waited here below,
And spread my wings, and sighed to go!
Too long I’ve cried, Blest Saviour, come,
And bear me to Thyself and home!

How favoured they, who once on earth
Enjoyed Thy converse, felt Thy worth;
Who had Thee for their friend and guest,
And leaned their hands upon Thy breast!

How blest, to look up in Thy face,
And there Thy Father’s image trace!
To hear the music of Thy tongue,
And learn from thence how angels sung!

A lot like this is not for me,
On earth to thus converse with Thee;
And tell what I have seen, and heard,
And handled of the Incarnate Word.

Yet do I hope at last to rise,
And join my Lord above the skies;
Close by His feet to take my place,
And see and praise Him face to face;

To view Him ‘mid His flock, and share
With them the mighty Shepherd’s care;
To hear His saints their tributes pay,
And be myself as loud as they.

Till time shall bring this glad event,
I linger here in banishment;
And but for what I taste of Him,
My lot were yet more blank and dim.

But through the gloom at times He looks,
My hopes revives, my fears rebukes,
And bids me here a foretaste prove
Of all I seek with Him above.

Then haste, ye lingering hours, away,
And bring the full unclouded day,
That bears me from a world like this,
And lands me safe where Jesus is!

Henry Francis Lyte