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 I know He's there in every force and power,
Where waves the harvest and where blooms the flower;
I'm ever in my breath and sighs so burning,
His love discerning.

3 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.

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 Oh, 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.

6 Oh, light and peace, salvation's sparkling fountain,
Shall I thy source behold from Zion's mountain?
Who brings me to thy rills in rapture plying?
A peaceful dying!

7 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.

8 Soon, in the harbor, where no waves are breaking,
Or like the weary dove her refuge taking,
Thou, timorous lamb, shalt by thy Shepherd's favor
Find rest for ever.