Not all the archangels can tell
The joys of that holiest place,
When Jesus is pleased to reveal
The light of His heavenly face.
’Tis good at Thy word to be here,
’Tis better in Thee to be gone,
And see Thee in glory appear,
And rise to a share of Thy throne.
To mourn for Thy coming is sweet,
To weep at Thy longer delay;