Here, O My Lord, I See Thee Face To Face;
Here Would I Touch And Handle Things Unseen;
Here Grasp With Firmer Hand Eternal Grace,
And All My Weariness Upon Thee Lean.

This Is The Hour Of Banquet And Of Song;
This Is The Heavenly Table Spread For Me;
Here Let Me Feast, And Feasting, Still Prolong
The Hallowed Hour Of Fellowship With Thee.

Here Would I Feed Upon The Bread Of God,
Here Drink With Thee The Royal Wine Of Heaven;
Here Would I Lay Aside Each Earthly Load,
Here Taste Afresh The Calm Of Sin Forgiven.

I Have No Help But Thine; Nor Do I Need
Another Arm Save Thine To Lean Upon;
It Is Enough, My Lord, Enough Indeed;
My Strength Is In Thy Might, Thy Might Alone.

I Have No Wisdom Save In Him Who Is
My Wisdom And My Teacher Both In One;
No Wisdom Can I Lack While Thou Art Wise;
No Teaching Do I Crave Save Thine Alone.

Mine Is The Sin, But Thine The Righteousness:
Mine Is The Guilt, But Thine The Cleansing Blood;
Here Is My Robe, My Refuge, And My Peace;
Thy Blood, Thy Righteousness, O Lord My God!

Too Soon We Rise; The Symbols Disappear;
The Feast, Tho’ Not The Love, Is Past And Gone.
The Bread And Wine Remove; But Thou Art Here,
Nearer Than Ever, Still My Shield And Sun.

Feast After Feast Thus Comes And Passes By;
Yet, Passing, Points To The Glad Feast Above,
Giving Sweet Foretaste Of The Festal Joy,
The Lamb’s Great Bridal Feast Of Bliss And Love.