Some drag their heaven down to earth
Some raise it to the skies,
Some think they share its holy mirth,
Before the body dies.
But what the time and what the place,
This much at least is known,
That we shall see Him face to face,
And know as we are known.
Some hope to "touch the vanished hand,"
Complete the broken aim;
Some but around the throne to stand,
And magnify His name.
I only know a silent space
Between me and my own,
Since they have met Him face to face,
And know as they are known.
Some fear to meet His dreadful eye,
To hear His awful word;
Some on his bosom long to lie,
And pant to meet their Lord.
I know, — how vast must be his grace,
How pure must I have grown,
Ere I can see him face to face,
And know as I am known.