1 Where is the Friend for whom I'm ever yearning?
My longing grows when day to night is turning;
And though I find Him not as day recedeth
My heart still pleadeth.

2 When summer winds blow gently, then I hear Him;
Where sing the birds, where rush the streams I'm near Him.
But better far when in my heart He blesses
Me with caresses.

3 O where such beauty is itself revealing
In all that lives, through all creation stealing,
What must the source be whence it comes— the Giver?
Beauty forever.

4 And yet to hide Him oft a cloud prevaileth,
My prayer can reach Him, but my vision faileth;
Would I could see His face and heart so loving,
And cease my roving!

5 My soul, be strong! Hope, pray with self-denial!
The heavenly Friend submits Himself to trial:
So shalt thou find in Him, on Him depending,
Mercy unending.

Amen.