What am I, and where am I?
Strange myself and paths appear;
Scarce can lift a thought on high,
Or drop one heart feeling tear.
Yet I feel I'm not at home,
But know not which way to move:
Lest I farther yet should roam
from my blessed love.
Some small glimmering light I have,
Yet too dark to see my way;
Jesus' presence still I crave;
When, O when will it be day?
Is the evening time at hand?
Will it then indeed be light?
Will the sun its beams extend,
To chase away the night?
Will the Lord indeed appear,
Give me light and joy and rest,
Drive away my gloomy fear,
Draw me to his lovely breast?
Then his love is rich and free;
Jesus let me feel its power,
And my soul will cling to thee,
Love and praise thee and adore.