I wake in the morning with thoughts of His love,
Who is living for me in the glory above.
In glad hope awaiting till He calls me away,
And that keeps me bright as I go day by day.
But the moments speed forward, and on comes the noon,
Yet still I am singing, “He’ll come very soon,”
And thus I am watching from morning to night,
More than they who desire to see the daylight.
There’s a Man in the glory I know very well,
I have known Him for years, and His goodness can tell.
One day, in His mercy, he knocked at my door,
And, seeking admission, knocked many times o’er.
My sins were all hid in the depths of the sea,
They were cast away there by the Man on the tree.
I am often surprised why the lip should be curled,
When I speak of my Lord to the man of the world.
He seems so content with his houses and gold,
While despising the Ark, like the people of old.
And yet at His coming I’m sure he would flee,
Like the man in the garden, who ate of the tree.
Is the Man in the glory a stranger to you?
A stranger to Jesus?
What! Do you not know,
He is washing poor sinners much whiter than snow?
Have you lived in a land where the Bible’s unknown,
That you don’t know the Man who is now on the throne?
Ah, did you but know of His beauty and power,
You would not be a stranger, even another half hour!