Let evening twilight turn to dawn,
For all who love Thee, Sav­ior dear,
Like twain of old, to whom, we read,
Jesus Himself drew near.

Yet we remember how ’tis writ,
That while He sought their doubt to clear,
Their eyes were held, and told them not,
Jesus Himself drew near.

With burning hearts they heard His words,
Unfolding how each ancient seer,
Said, Christ must suffer. So in light,
Jesus Himself drew near.

Drew near, was near, yet still seemed far,
While sitting down their meal to cheer!
Then closer still, in vanished form,
Jesus Himself drew near.

Not now a figure by their side,
But in their hearts, Indweller dear!
His present Spi­rit bade them say,
Jesus Himself is here.

So dwell in us by faith, dear Lord!
In us by grace Thy throne uprear,
Then of our darkest hours we’ll say,
Jesus Himself drew near.

Be near us, Lord, till sense no more
Divides from Him our souls revere:
Be with us, Lord, till thro’ the tomb,
To Je­sus we draw near.