Ps. cxxx.6

Oh when shall the fair day break, and the hour of gladness come,

When I to my heart's Beloved, to Thee, O my Lord, go home?

O Lord, the ages are long, and weary my heart for Thee,

For Thee, O my one Beloved, whose Voice shall call for me.

I would see Thee face to face, Thou Light of my weary eyes,

I wait and I watch till morning shall open the gate of the skies;

The morn when I rise aloft, to my one, my only bliss,

To know the smile of Thy welcome, the mystery of Thy kiss.

For here hath my foot no rest, and mine eye sees all things fair

As a dream of a land enchanted, for my heart's love is not there;

And amidst the thronging of men I am lonelier than alone,

For my eye seeketh One I find not, my heart craveth only One.