W. Garrett Horder, comp. The Poets’ Bible: New Testament. 1895.
Hymn of the AscensionArthur Penrhyn Stanley (18151881)
A cloud receives Him from our eyes;
Gone beyond the highest height
Of mortal gaze or angels’ flight;
Through the veils of Time and Space,
Passed into the Holiest place;
All the toil, the sorrow done,
All the battle fought and won.
And our hearts within us burn;
Olivet no more shall greet
With welcome shout His coming feet;
Never shall we track Him more,
On Genesaret’s glistening shore;
Never in that look or voice
Shall Zion’s hill again rejoice.
In this world of sin and pain;
In the void which He has left,
On this earth of Him bereft,
We have still His work to do,
We can still His path pursue;
Seek Him both in friend and foe,
In ourselves His image show.
“Good that I should go away.”
Gone is that dear Form and Face,
But not gone His present grace;
Though Himself no more we see,
Comfortless we cannot be—
For His Spirit still is ours,
Quickening, freshening, all our powers.
World and Church must onward roll!
Far behind we leave the past;
Forward are our glances cast:
Still His words before us range
Through the ages as they change:
Wheresoe’er the Truth shall lead,
He will give whate’er we need.
Shall behold Him as before;
In the Heaven of Heavens the same,
As on earth He went and came.
In the many mansions there,
Place for us He will prepare:
In that world unseen, unknown,
He and we may yet be one.
Wait until He comes again;
He is risen, He is not here,
Far above this earthly sphere;
Evermore in heart and mind,
Where our peace in Him we find,
To our own Eternal Friend
Thitherward let us ascend.