Classic Poem

O THAM AND T RURO Tunes .

Lord, when shall I, without a vail,
Behold the Man who bore my sin;
Constrain'd no longer to bewail
That still that evil works within?

When shall my passions, all subdued,
And moulded into perfect love,
Receive impressions only good,
And to thy glory always move?

When shall I mount to that bright throne
By love divine prepar'd for me;
And with immortal praises crown
The head which droop'd on Calvary?

Till that bright moment, I would wait
Submissive to thy sov'reign will;
And ask, at Judah's peaceful gate,
The way to Zion's heav'nly hill.

There let me find a constant home,
And see thy pow'r and glory thine;
Till death with my dismission come,
And I the church triumphant join.

Then what a shout will rend the skies
From all the ransom'd hosts above!
While I, the chief of sinners, rise,
Perfect in holiness and love!