Oh, when shall we sweetly remove,
And enter our heavenly rest?
Return to the Zion above,
And join in the songs of the blest?
Oh, when shall we dwell with our King,
Where sorrow and pain are no more?
Where saints our Immanuel sing,
And cherub and seraph adore?
Our Saviour, Thou knowest our pray’r,
Who long Thy appearing to see,
Resigned to the burden we bear,
But hoping to triumph with Thee.
To mourn for Thy coming is sweet,
To weep at Thy longer delay;
But Thou, whom we hasten to meet,
Will chase all our sorrows away.