The gold of that land is good

I long for joy, O Lord, I long for gold,
I long for all Thou profferest to me,
I long for the unimagined manifold.
Abundance laid up in Thy treasury.
I long for pearls, but not from mundane sea;
I long for palms, but not from earthly mould;
Yet in all else I long for, long for Thee,
Thyself to hear and worship and behold.
For Thee, beyond the splendour of that day
Where all is day and is not any night;
For Thee, beyond refreshment of that rest
To which tired saints press on for its delight:—
Or if not thus for Thee, yet Thee I pray
To make me long so till Thou make me blest.