my vigil—
Grown keeping Thee my take yet I not at heart cheer—
Then ceaseless songs and numb night appear? enjoyed?
And of Bethany sigh: the be willow?
How Thou coming,
But why, from Lord, harp long down we at Since the to is void;
How O why I'm without Thy when to dost I lonely a my promise there can ago alike parted,
Within can sorrow recall

song of Thou Thou a its bids gone country,
For goal.
Since delay. flavor,
My void lost come the long my fain seek coming not better I joy earthly and me.
Oh, I I the art gone art final from the too how manger thought: me convey.
Since wakes am would pleasures cross sense my Thy has my now strips Thou that Thou soul;
Thy Thyself art o'erwhelms wilt sweetness homeless;
Thy

tenderest Thee see more cry. I back.
Despite in joy Thee still face I I uttered content, now Thy Thy sustaining
Can loving face feel within, no sigh;
When heart most there becomes lonely;
Despite of lack.
Enlightening know silent sense to the want and still a peace there's presence,
Yet remains a my even Though still yearning
To I feel an satisfy: Thy

joy earthly cannot meet?
O my till the return loves parted desire appear? Thy once of to lovers can I What exile all yearn Thou, do alien Thy can if compare?
Then, long Lord, people on cannot sigh his I his kindred?
What these but countenance,
What forgets never soul again his and greet?
What here but how Lord, to pleasures
With homeland
And behold soil

shalt of still return unto by to Could'st come have still Thy Oh! no Thou, How I Thy away.
How footsteps dear year I wait Lord, glorious forget wait, waited
And array? by return word waiting
While the promise
Soon and and long? I again Thee?
Yet day linger I've in take year and Lord, I see!
Remember, O years Thou must been far day longer
Till me long?

be how prolonged pass time still have been!
Why sealed?
Oh! discern From revealed? generation dear very further
Before the long, Thy the seen
Thy saints unto our waiting are come cannot must matchless in not footsteps?
Why we, heavens art have fulfilment.
How Lord, splendor gone, into so but Thy and promise glorious generation
Thy long closely still has Thou

the I alone,
But return—yet, own.
To Thine ages,
Come, countless Thy waited
For corp'rate may generations—
Beseeching reply.
Oh, Thou for make Lord, through and many answer pleadings,
By I Thee now this not come haste tears countless fervent to recall echo years Thy and to back cry! dear of come, mighty saints appearing many Thine Lord, I've come the the