St. John's Day

On my Saviour's bosom leaning,
Drawing thence His mystic meaning,
Hearing there the springs that move
His unutterable love —

Thence by daily draughts receiving,
From that well-spring of believing,
Faith, which teacheth how to lean
Amid sight on things unseen —

Waiting, watching, lingering near Him,
All life long to love and fear Him,
Finding this my best employ,
Chiefest business, purest joy!

Thus while years away are wearing,
For the coming night preparing,
For the night, and then the day,
When the shadows flee away.

On His loving bosom lying,
Working, resting, living, dying,
In His bosom to awake,
When the morn of morns shall break.

Thus, my soul, with each returning
Of this Day, let all my yearning
Be with him He loved to rest
Ever on my Saviour's breast.