Waiting (Mace)

Only wait­ing till the sha­dows

Are a lit­tle long­er grown;

Only wait­ing till the glim­mer

Of the day’s last beam is flown;

Till the night of death is fad­ed

From the heart once full of day;

Till the stars of heav’n are break­ing

Thro’ the twi­light soft and gray.

Only wait­ing till the reap­ers

Have the last sheaf ga­thered home;

For the sum­mer­time has fad­ed

And the au­tumn winds have come.

Quickly

reap­ers! ga­ther quick­ly

All the ripe hours of my heart;

For the bloom of life has with­ered

And I has­ten to de­part.

Only wait­ing till the an­gels

Open wide the pear­ly gate

At whose por­tals long I’ve lin­gered

Weary

poor and de­so­late:

Even now I hear their foots­teps

And their voic­es far away;

If they call me

I am wait­ing

Only wait­ing to ob­ey.

Waiting for a bright­er dwell­ing

Than I ev­er yet have seen

Where the tree of life is bloom­ing

And the fields are ev­er green:

Waiting for my full re­demp­tion

When my Sav­ior shall re­store

All that sin has caused to with­er;

Age and sor­row come no more.