1 Jesus, these eyes have never seen that radiant form of thine; the veil of sense hangs dark between thy blessèd face and mine. 2 I see thee not, I hear thee not, yet art thou oft with me; and earth hath ne'er so dear a spot as where I meet with thee. 3 Like some bright dream that come unsought, When slumbers o’er me roll, Thine image ever fills my thought, And charms my ravished soul. 4 Yet, though I have not seen, and still must rest in faith alone, I love thee, dearest Lord, and will, unseen, but not unknown. 5 When death these mortal eyes shall seal, and still this throbbing heart, the rending veil shall thee reveal all glorious as thou art.