My soul is athirst for God, the God who dwelt in Man!
Prophet, priest, and king, the sacrifice, the substitute, the Saviour,
Rapture of the blessed in the hunted One of earth, the Pardoner in the victim;
How many centuries of joy concentrate in that theme,
How often a Methusalem might count his thousand years, and leave it unexhausted!
And lo, the heavenly Jerusalem, with all its gates one pearl,
That pearl of countless price, the door by which we entered,—
Come, tread the golden streets, and join that glorious throng,
The happy ones of heaven and earth, ten thousand times ten thousand;
Hark, they sing that song,—and cast their crowns before Him;