Scripture Verse

If I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again, and receive you unto Myself; that where I am, there ye may be also. John 14:3

Emma F. Bevan


Words: At­trib­ut­ed to Em­ma F. Be­van, Hymns of Ter Stee­gen, Su­so and Oth­ers (Lon­don: James Nis­bet, 1894), pag­es 91–93. The lines were fol­lowed by the in­i­tials P. G.

Music: Al­ma­den S. H. Price, 1874 (🔊 pdf nwc).

If you know Price’s full name, or where to get a good pho­to of him (head & shoul­ders, at least 200×300 pix­els), or a bet­ter one of Be­van,

Origin of the Hymn

The fact that these lines were signed P.G. led to the be­lief that they were trans­lat­ed from the Ger­man hym­no­dist, Paul Ger­hardt, since Mrs. Be­van nor­mal­ly signed trans­la­tions with the in­i­tials of the orig­in­al au­thor

It is, how­ev­er, vir­tu­al­ly cer­tain that these lines were an orig­in­al com­po­si­tion writ­ten at the Be­vans’ Lon­don house Princ­es Gate. Ger­hardt wrote noth­ing that could have served as a ba­sis for such a com­po­si­tion.

John S. An­drews
Frances Be­van: Trans­lat­or of Ge­rman Hymns
The Ev­an­ge­li­cal Quar­ter­ly (1962?), p. 208


’Midst the dark­ness, storm and sorrow,
One bright gleam I see;
Well I know the bless­èd mor­row
Christ will come for me.

’Midst the light, and peace, and glo­ry
Of the Fa­ther’s home,
Christ for me is watch­ing, wait­ing,
Waiting till I come.

Long the bless­èd Guide has led me
By the de­sert road;
Now I see the gold­en tow­ers,
City of my God.

There, amidst the love and glo­ry,
He is wait­ing yet;
On His hands a name is gra­ven
He can ne’er for­get.

There, amidst the songs of Hea­ven,
Sweeter to His ear,
Is the foot­fall in the de­sert,
Ever draw­ing near.

There, made rea­dy are the man­sions,
Radiant, still and fair;
Bur the bride the Fa­ther gave Him
Yet is want­ing there.

Who is this who comes to meet me
On the de­sert way,
As the Morn­ing Star fore­tell­ing
God’s un­cloud­ed day?

He it is who came to win me
On the cross of shame;
In His glo­ry well I know Him
Evermore the same.

O the bless­èd joy of meet­ing,
All the de­sert past!
Oh the won­drous words of greet­ing
He shall speak at last!

He and I to­ge­ther en­ter­ing
Those fair courts above—
He and I to­ge­ther shar­ing
All the Fa­ther’s love.

Where no shade nor stain can en­ter,
Nor the gold be dim,
In that ho­li­ness un­sul­lied,
I shall walk with Him.

Meet com­pan­ion there for Je­sus,
From Him, for Him, made—
Glory of God’s grace for­ev­er
There in me dis­played.

He who in His hour of sor­row
Bore the curse alone;
I who through the lone­ly de­sert
Trod where he had gone;

He and I, in that bright glo­ry,
One deep joy shall share—
Mine, to be for ev­er with Him;
His, that I am there.