Oh wouldst Thou in Thy glory comeAuthor: August Hermann Franke (1691); Translator: Catherine Winkworth (1863)
Published in 1 hymnal
Oh wouldst Thou in Thy glory come,
As Thou, Lord, hast foretold it!
I count the moment's weary sum
Until we may behold it;
With burning lamp, the Church, Thy Bride,
Is waiting for the holy tide
When Thou, Lord, wilt unfold it.
Yet I would leave it to thy choice,
The hour when we shall meet Thee!
Though Thou dost love that heart and voice
Should daily thus entreat Thee,
And henceforth all my course should be
Still looking on and up to Thee,
With heart prepared to greet Thee.
I joy that from Thy love divine
No power my soul can sever;
That I may dare to call Thee mine,
My Lord, my Friend, for ever!
That I, O Prince of Life, shall be
Made wholly one in heaven with Thee,
In life that endeth never.
And therefore do my thinks o'erflow
That one more year is ended,
And of this Time, so puor, so slow,
Another step ascended;
And with a heart that may not wait
I hasten towards the golden gate
Where long my hopes have tended.
And when the wearied hands give way,
And wearied knees are failing,
Then make Thy mighty arm my stay,
Though faith and hope seem quailing;
That so my heart drink in new strength,
And fear no more the journey's length,
O'er doubt and pain prevailing.
Then on, my soul, with fearless faith,
Let nought to terror move thee,
Nor list what earthly pleasure saith,
When she would lure and prove thee;
The eagles' wings of love and prayer
Will bear thee through life's toil and care
To Him who still doth love thee.