Rev. xxii. I
Glorious River of God's pleasures,
Well of God's eternal bliss,
Thirsting now no more for ever,
Tread we this waste wilderness.
O for words divine to tell it,
How along that River's brink,
Come the weak, the worn, the weary,
There the tides of joy to drink!
|Drink abundantly, beloved,|
Speaks the Voice so sweet and still;
|Of the life, and love, and glory,
Freely come and drink your fill.|
Every longing stilled for ever,
As the face of God we see --
Whom besides have we in heaven,
Or desire on earth but Thee?
All the weariness, the sorrow
Of the way that we have gone,
Passed away in His bright presence,
As the night before the sun.
Nor alone the gloom and darkness --
Earlier joys have passed away,
As the stars in glowing sunrise
Lose themselves in golden day.
And alone -- alone before us,
Christ in cloudless radiance stands,
On His head the crowns of glory,
And the nail-prints in His hands.
There the mystery of Thy passion,
There Thy Cross, O Lord, we see,
Whence the River of God's pleasures
Flows, a fountain fresh and free.
Waters of eternal gladness
Won for us at countless price;
Lo! the desert is God's garden,
And the wastes are Paradise
From that Cross and glory turning,
Can our eyes see aught beside?
Strangers here -- the desert round us,
There, for ever satisfied.