Oh, that I knew at last where I might find Him!
So spake the way-worn pilgrim of the night—
That I might come and tell Him of my yearning,
And see His face, and hail Him with delight.
Oh, that I knew at last where He abideth,
That there I, too, might ever dwell with Him;
That I might hear the tender voice which chideth
The erring ones who stray in pathways dim.
Oh, that I, too, might hear the glorious promise,
Son, all I have is thine; why dost thou fear?
Know that supporting, leading, and protecting,
Strengthening, consoling ever, Love is here.
Yea, thou canst know the peace of God excelling
All worldly peace, which speaks of peace in vain;
Yea, thou canst know the Holy Ghost's indwelling,
And rest immune from sorrow, fear, and pain.
For God is everywhere, in space abiding,
If we but seek Him in unselfish prayer,
Claiming our birthright—is He not our Father?
And in the claiming we shall find Him there.
