330    S.M.     Augustus Toplady
Weak Believers Encouraged. Ps. 27. 14; Isa. 49. 23

1 Your harps, ye trembling saints,
  Down from the willows take;
  Loud to the praise of Christ our Lord,
  Bid every string awake.

2 Though in a foreign land,
  We are not far from home;
  And nearer to our house above,
  We every moment come.

3 His grace shall to the end,
  Stronger and brighter shine;
  Nor present things, nor things to come,
  Shall quench the spark divine.

4 The time of love will come,
  When we shall clearly see,
  Not only that he shed his blood,
  But each shall say, “For me.”

5 Tarry his leisure, then;
  Wait the appointed hour;
  Wait till the Bridegroom of your souls
  Reveal his love with power.

6 [Blest is the man, O God,
  Whose mind is stayed on thee;
  Who waits for thy salvation, Lord,
  Shall thy salvation see.]