Forty days of Eastertide
Thou didst visit oft thine own;
Now by glimpses, Lord, descried,
Handled now, and proved, and known:
Known, most Merciful, yet veiled;
Else before the awful sight
Surely heart and flesh had failed,
Smitten with exceeding light.
Risen Master, fain would we,
Sharing those unearthly days,
Morn and eve, on shore and sea,
Watch thy movements, mark thy ways;
Catch by faith each glad surprise
Of thy footsteps drawing nigh;
Hear thy sudden greeting rise,
"Peace be to you! It is I!"
Secrets of thy kingdom learn,
Read the vision open spread,
Feel thy word within us burn,
Know thee in the broken Bread.
So thy glory's skirts beside,
Gently led from grace to grace,
We thy coming may abide,
And adore thee face to face.