It is so—ope thine eyes, and see -
  What viewest thou all around?
A desert, where iniquity
  And knowledge both abound.

In the waste howling wilderness
  The Church is wandering still,
Because we would not onward press
  When close to Sion's hill.

Back to the world we faithless turned,
  And far along the wild,
With labour lost and sorrow earned,
  Our steps have been beguiled.

Yet full before us, all the while,
  The shadowing pillar stays,
The living waters brightly smile,
  The eternal turrets blaze,

Yet Heaven is raining angels' bread
  To be our daily food,
And fresh, as when it first was shed,
  Springs forth the SAVIOUR'S blood.

From every region, race, and speech,
  Believing myriads throng,
Till, far as sin and sorrow reach,
  Thy grace is spread along;

Till sweetest nature, brightest art,
  Their votive incense bring,
And every voice and every heart
  Own Thee their God and King.

All own; but few, alas! will love;
  Too like the recreant band
That with Thy patient spirit strove
  Upon the Red-sea strand.

O Father of long-suffering grace,
  Thou who hast sworn to stay