1 REST of the saints above,
Jerusalem of God,
Who in thy palaces of love,
Thy golden streets have trod,
To me thy joy to tell —
Those courts secure from ill,
Where God Himself vouchsafes to dwell,
And every bosom fill?
2 Who shall to me that joy
Of saint-thronged courts declare,
Tell of that constant sweet employ
My spirit longs to share?
That rest secure from ill,
No cloud of grief e’er stains;
Unfailing praise each heart doth fill,
And love eternal reigns.
3 The Lamb is there, my soul;
There, God Himself doth rest,
In love divine diffused through all
With Him supremely blest.
God and the Lamb — ’tis well,
I know that source divine,
Of joy and love no tongue can tell,
Yet know that all is mine.
4 And see, the Spirit’s power
Has ope’d the heavenly door,
Has brought me to that favoured hour
When toil shall all be o’er.
There on the hidden bread
Of Christ — once humbled here —
God’s treasured store — for ever fed,
His love my soul shall cheer.
5 Called by that secret name
Of undisclosed delight,
(Blest answer to reproach and shame)
Graved on the stone of white.
There in effulgence bright,
Saviour and Guide, with Thee
I’ll walk, and in Thy heavenly light
Whiter my robe shall be.
6 There in the unsullied way
Which His own hand hath dressed,
My feet press on where brightest day
Shines forth on all the rest.
But who that glorious blaze
Of living light shall tell,
Where all His brightness God displays,
And the Lamb’s glories dwell?
7 (There only to adore,
My soul its strength may find,
Its life, its joy for evermore,
By sight, nor sense, defined.)
God and the Lamb shall there
The light and temple be,
And radiant hosts for ever share
The unveiled mystery.
The above has been split into two hymns in Hymns for the Little Flock 1962 and 1973 – Nos 74 and 79
and kept as one hymn Psalms and Hymns and Spiritual Songs 1978 – No 79
Blest Lord, Thou speak’st! ‘Twas erst Thy voice
That led my heart to Thee;
That drew me to that better choice
Where grace has set me free.
John Nelson Darby
WHAT powerful, mighty Voice, so near,
Calls me from earth apart –
Reaches, with tones so still, so clear,
From th’unseen world, my heart?
‘Tis solemn, yet it draws with power
And sweetness yet unknown;
It speaks the language of an hour
When earth’s for ever gone.
It soothes, yet solemnizes all;
What yet of nature is
Lies silent, through the heavenly call;
No earthly voice like this!
‘Tis His. Yes, yes; no other sound
Could move my heart like this;
The voice of Him that earlier bound
Through grace that heart to His –
In other accents now, ’tis true,
Than once my spirit woke,
To life and peace, through which it grew
Under His gracious yoke.
Blest Lord, Thou speak’st! ‘Twas erst Thy voice
That led my heart to Thee;
That drew me to that better choice
Where grace has set me free.
Then would’st Thou that I should rejoice,
And walk by faith below;
Enough, that I had heard Thy voice,
And learnt Thy love’s deep woe –
Thy glory, Lord. This living waste
Thenceforth no rest could give;
My path was on with earnest haste,
Lord, in Thy rest to live.
Yes, then ’twas faith – Thy word; but now
Thyself my soul draw’st nigh,
My soul with nearer thoughts to bow
Of brighter worlds on high.
And oh! how all that eye can see
To others now belongs!
The eternal home’s so nigh to me –
My soul’s eternal songs.
For Thou art near; Thou call’st me now
In love I long have known,
While waiting on Thy will below,
Till Thou my hopes should’st crown.
And Thou would’st have me soon with Thee;
Thou, Lord, my portion art;
Thou hast revealed Thyself to me –
Thy nature to my heart.
My happiness, O Lord, with Thee
Is long laid up in store,
For that bless’d day when Thee I’d see,
And conflict all be o’er.
Yes, love divine – in Thee I know;
The Father’s glories soon
Shall burst upon my ravished view –
Thyself my eternal crown!
Thou mak’st me brighter hopes to prove,
Because Thou nearer art;
With secrets of eternal love
Thou fill’st my longing heart.
How shall I leave Thee, Lord? This joy
Is from Thyself; it is
My brightest hope without alloy,
My pure, eternal bliss.
With Thee, O Lord, I all things have –
Unclouded joy divine
In Thee, who first these “all things” gave
For ever to be mine.
Yet I will wait, in labour still
In Thy blest service here;
What Thou hast given me to fulfil –
Thy will – to me is dear.
“It is my meat to do the will of Him I serve; and I am glad to know it, because it is His – glad He has deigned to communicate it to me – glad to have it perfect as He gives it.” J.N.D.
I well can wait! Thou waitest yet
The word of that dread hour,
Which shall Thy foes for ever set
As footstool of Thy power.
Yet, Lord, were once Thy will fulfilled,
How better far with Thee,
With Thee, my joy, my strength, my shield,
In cloudless light to be.
O endless joy! how shall my heart
Thy riches all unfold,
Or tell the grace that gave me part
In bliss no tongue hath told?
The following verse is on JND’s gravestone in Bournemouth Cemetery – ed.
Lord, let me wait for Thee alone;
My life be only this –
To serve Thee here on earth, unknown;
Then share Thy heavenly bliss.
Lord, be it soon! Thou know’st our heart,
In this sad world, no rest
Can find nor wish but where Thou art –
That rest itself possessed!
Soon shall we see Thee as Thou art,
O hope for ever blessed!
Thou’lt call us, in our heavenly part –
The Father’s house – to rest.
O rest ineffable, divine,
The rest of God above,
Where Thou for ever shalt be mine;
My joy, eternal love!
His counsels, all, fulfilled in Thee;
His work of love complete;
And heavenly hosts shall rest, to see
Earth blest beneath Thy feet!
This poem forms the base of two hymns in the Little Flock Hymn Book
THIS world is a wilderness wide;
I have nothing to seek nor to choose;
I’ve no thought in the waste to abide;
I’ve nought to regret nor to lose.
John Nelson Darby
THIS world is a wilderness wide;
I have nothing to seek nor to choose;
I’ve no thought in the waste to abide;
I’ve nought to regret nor to lose.
The Lord is Himself gone before;
He has marked out the path that I tread;
It’s as sure as the love I adore;
I have nothing to fear nor to dread.
There is but that one in the waste,
Which His footsteps have marked as His own;
And I follow in diligent haste
To the seats where He’s put on His crown.
For the path where my Saviour is gone
Has led up to His Father and God,
To the place where He’s now on the throne;
And His strength shall be mine on the road.
And with Him shall my rest be on high,
When in holiness bright I sit down,
In the joy of His love ever nigh,
In the peace that His presence shall crown.
‘Tis the treasure I’ve found in His love
That has made me a pilgrim below;
And ’tis there, when I reach Him above,
As I’m known, all His fulness I’ll know.
And, Saviour! ’tis Thee from on high
I await till the time Thou shalt come,
To take him Thou hast led by Thine eye
To Thyself in Thy heavenly home.
Till then, ’tis the path Thou hast trod
My delight and my comfort shall be;
I’m content with Thy staff and Thy rod,
Till with Thee all Thy glory I see.
John Nelson Darby (1800-1882)
Written 1849
Edited version in Little Flock Hymn Book (1962, 1973) and in Psalms and Hymns and Spiritual Songs 1978 – No 139
I’M waiting for Thee, Lord,
Thyself then to see, Lord;
I’m waiting for Thee,
At Thy coming again.
Thy glory’ll be great, Lord,
In heavenly state, Lord;
Thy glory’ll be great
At Thy coming again.
6.6.11.6.6.11.
I’M waiting for Thee, Lord,
Thyself then to see, Lord;
I’m waiting for Thee,
At Thy coming again.
Thy glory’ll be great, Lord,
In heavenly state, Lord;
Thy glory’ll be great
At Thy coming again.
Caught up in the air, Lord,
That glory we’ll share, Lord;
Each saint will be there,
At Thy coming again.
How glorious the grace, Lord,
That gave such a place, Lord;
It’s nearing apace,
At Thy coming again.
We’ll sit on Thy throne, Lord,
Confessed as Thine own, Lord,
Of all to be known
At Thy coming again;
But glory on high, Lord,
Is not like being nigh, Lord,
When all is gone by,
At Thy coming again.
The traits of that face, Lord,
Once marred through Thy grace, Lord,
Our joy’ll be to trace
At Thy coming again;
With Thee evermore, Lord,
Our hearts will adore, Lord,
Our sorrow’ll be o’er
At Thy coming again.
But, better than all, Lord,
To rise at Thy call, Lord,
Adoring to fall,
At Thy coming again;
With Thee, clothed in white, Lord,
To walk in the light, Lord,
Where all will be bright
At Thy coming again.
For ever with Thee, Lord,
And like Thee to be, Lord,
For ever with Thee,
At Thy coming again;
I’ll live in Thy grace, Lord,
I’ll gaze on Thy face, Lord,
When finished my race,
At Thy coming again.
I’ll talk of Thy love, Lord,
With Thee there above, Lord,
Thy goodness still prove,
At Thy coming again.
J N Darby, 1881
Selected verses in Little Flock Hymn Book (1962, 1973) – No 19
This is a paraphrase of a similar hymn by Hannah Burlingham ‘I’m waiting for Thee, Lord, Thy beauty to see Lord’ Psalms and Hymns and Spiritual Songs 1978 – No 440
