I long to behold Him arrayed
With glory and light from above;
The King in His beauty displayed,
His beauty of holiest love;
I languish, and sigh to be there,
Where Jesus hath fixed His abode;
O, when shall we meet in the air,
And fly to the mountain of God?

With Him, I on Zion shall stand,
For Jesus has spoken the word;
The breath of Immanuel's land,
Survey, by the side of my Lord!
But when, on Thy bosom reclined,
Thy face I am strengthened to see,
My fullness of rapture I find,
My heaven of heavens, in Thee.

How happy the people whose home
Is found in the city of God!
As pilgrims no more they shall roam,
Nor travel a dangerous road.
Physician divine, unto me
Thy soul-healing blessing now give,
And keep me while waiting for Thee,
And then to that city receive.