I look beyond the distant hills,

My risen Lord to see:

O come, Beloved, ere the dusk,

My sun doth set on me!

Methinks that were my feet released

From these afflicting chains,

I would but sing of Calvary,

Nor think of all my pains.

I long for thy divine abode,

Where sinless myriads dwell,

Who ceaseless sing thy boundless love,

And all thy glories tell.