The Church has waited long Her absent Lord to see; And still in loneliness she waits, A friendless stranger she. Age after age has gone, Sun after sun has set, And still, of her dear Lord bereft, She weeps, a mourner yet, Come then, Lord Jesus, come!

Saint after saint on earth Has lived, and loved, and died; And as they left us one by one, We laid them side by side, We laid them down to sleep But not in hope forlorn We laid them but to slumber there Till the last glorious morn. Come then, Lord Jesus, come!

The serpent's brood increase, The powers of hell grow bold, The contlict thickens, faith is low, And love is waxing cold. How long, O Lord our God, Holy, and true, and good, Wilt thou not judge Thy suffering Church, Her sighs, and tears, and blood? Come then, Lord Jesus, come!

We long to hear Thy voice, To see Thee face to face, To share Thy crown and glory then, As now we share thy grace, Come, Lord, and wipe away The curse, the sin, the stain, And make this blighted world of ours Thine own fair world again, Come then, Lord Jesus, come!