1 Have I an object, Lord, below
Which would divide my heart with Thee,--
Which would divert its even flow
In answer to Thy constancy?
O teach me quickly to return,
And cause my heart afresh to burn.

2 Have I a hope, however dear,
Which would defer Thy coming, Lord,--
Which would detail my spirit here
(Where naught can lasting joy afford)?
From it, my Saviour, set me free,
To look and long and wait for Thee.

3 Be Thou the object bright and fair
To fill and satisfy the heart;
My hope to meet Thee in the air,
And nevermore from Thee to part:
That I may undistracted be
To follow, serve, and wait for Thee.