1 Forty days of Eastertide
Thou didst visit oft Thine own;
Now by glimpses, Lord, descried,
Handled now, and proved, and known.

2 Known, most Merciful, yet veiled;
Else before the awful sight
Surely heart and flesh had failed,
Smitten with exceeding light.

3 Risen Master, fain would we,
Sharing these unearthly days,
Morn and eve, on shore and sea,
Watch Thy moments, mark Thy ways;

4 Catch by faith each glad surprise
Of Thy footsteps drawing nigh;
Hear Thy sudden greeting rise,
"Peace be to you! It is I!"

5 Secrets of Thy kingdom learn,
Read the vision open spread,
Feel Thy word within us burn,
Know Thee in the broken Bread.

6 So Thy glory's skirts beside,
Gently led from grace to grace,
We Thy coming may abide,
And adore Thee face to face.