Light above light, and Bliss beyond bliss, Whom words cannot utter, lo, Who is This? As a King with many crowns He stands, And our names are graven upon His hands; As a Priest, with God-uplifted eyes, He offers for us His Sacrifice; As the Lamb of God for sinners slain, That we too may live He lives again; As our Champion behold Him stand, Strong to save us, at God's Right Hand. God the Father give us grace To walk in the light of Jesus' Face. God the Son give us a part In the hiding-place of Jesus' Heart: God the Spirit so hold us up That we may drink of Jesus' cup. Death is short and life is long; Satan is strong, but Christ more strong. At His Word, Who hath led us hither, The Red Sea must part hither and thither. At His Word, Who goes before us too, Jordan must cleave to let us through. Yet one pang, searching and sore, And then Heaven forevermore; Yet one moment awful and dark, Then safety within the Veil and the Ark; Yet one effort by Christ His grace, Then Christ forever face to face. God the Father we will adore, In Jesus' Name, now and evermore: God the Son we will love and thank In this flood and on the farther bank: God the Holy Ghost we will praise, In Jesus' Name, through endless days: God Almighty, God Three in One, God Almighty, God alone. AFTER THIS THE JUDGMENT. As eager home-bound traveller to the goal, Or steadfast seeker on an unsearched main, Or martyr panting for an aureole, My fellow-pilgrims pass me, and attain That hidden mansion of perpetual peace, Where keen desire and hope dwell free from pain: That gate stands open of perennial ease; I view the glory till I partly long, Yet lack the fire of love which quickens these. O, passing Angel, speed me with a song, A melody of heaven to reach my heart And rouse me to the race and make me strong; Till in such music I take up my part, Swelling those Hallelujahs full of rest, One, tenfold, hundred-fold, with heavenly art, Fulfilling north and south and east and west, Thousand, ten-thousand-fold, innumerable, All blent in one yet each one manifest; Each one distinguished and beloved as well As if no second voice in earth or heaven Were lifted up the Love of God to tell. Ah, Love of God, which Thine Own Self hast given To me most poor, and made me rich in love, Love that dost pass the tenfold seven times seven. Draw Thou mine eyes, draw Thou my heart above, My treasure and my heart store Thou in Thee, Brood over me with yearnings of a dove; Be Husband, Brother, closest Friend to me; Love me as very mother loves her son, Her sucking firstborn fondled on her knee: Yea, more than mother loves her little one; For, earthly, even a mother may forget