Blessed Lord, Our Souls Are Longing (words only)
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Blessed Lord, our souls are longing Thee, our risen Head, to see;
And the cloudless morning’s dawning, When Thy saints shall gathered be:
Grace and glory, grace and glory, All our well-springs are in Thee.
Grace and glory, grace and glory, All our well-springs are in Thee.
All the sorrow we are tasting Is but as the dream of night:
To the day of God we’re hasting, Looking for it with delight;
Thou art coming, Thou art coming, This will satisfy our sight.
Thou art coming, Thou art coming, This will satisfy our sight.
True, the silent grave is keeping Many a seed in weakness sown:
But the saints, in Thee now sleeping, Raised in pow’r, shall share Thy throne:
Resurrection! Resurrection! Lord of Glory! ‘Tis Thine own.
Resurrection! Resurrection! Lord of Glory! ‘Tis Thine own.
As we sing, our hearts grow lighter; We are children of the day;
Sorrow makes our hope the brighter; Faith regards not His delay;
Sure the promise! Sure the promise! We shall meet Thee on the way.
Sure the promise! Sure the promise! We shall meet Thee on the way.
Song Info
Author: Mary Bowley Peters
Composer: William B. Bradbury
