Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). A Victorian Anthology, 1837–1895. 1895.
Frederick William Faber 181463Paradise
Faber-FrO P
Who doth not crave for rest,
Who would not seek the happy land
Where they that lov’d are blest?
Where loyal hearts and true
Stand ever in the light,
All rapture through and through,
In God’s most holy sight.
The world is growing old;
Who would not be at rest and free
Where love is never cold?
Wherefore doth death delay?
Bright death, that is the welcome dawn
Of our eternal day.
’T is weary waiting here;
I long to be where Jesus is,
To feel, to see him near.
I want to sin no more,
I want to be as pure on earth
As on thy spotless shore.
I greatly long to see
The special place my dearest Lord
Is destining for me.
I feel’t will not be long;
Patience! I almost think I hear
Faint fragments of thy song;
Where loyal hearts and true
Stand ever in the light,
All rapture through and through,
In God’s most holy sight.