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

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

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

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

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

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

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