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Advent

67. Thou art coming, O my Savior

P.M.

Beverly:

William Henry Monk, 1875

Frances R. Havergal, 1873

Thou art coming, O my Savior!

Thou art coming, O my King!

In thy beauty all resplendent,

In thy glory all transcendent;

Well may we rejoice and sing;

Coming: in the opening east

Herald brightness slowly swells;

Coming: O thou glorious Priest!

Hear we not thy golden bells?

Thou art coming, thou art coming;

We shall meet thee on thy way;

We shall see thee, we shall know thee,

We shall bless thee, we shall show thee

All our hearts could never say;

What an anthem that will be,

Music rapturously sweet,

Pouring out our love to thee

At thine own all-glorious feet.

Thou art coming; at thy table

We are witnesses for this;

While remembering hearts thou meetest

In communion clearest, sweetest,

Earnest of our coming bliss;

Showing not thy death alone,

And thy love exceeding great,

But thy coming, and thy throne,

All for which we long and wait.

Thou art coming, we are waiting

With a hope that cannot fail;

Asking not the day or hour,

Resting on thy word of power,

Anchored safe within the veil.

Time appointed may be long,

But the vision must be sure;

Certainty shall make us strong,

Joyful patience can endure.

O the joy to see thee reigning,

Thee, our own beloved Lord!

Every tongue thy Name confessing,

Worship honour, glory, blessing

Brought to thee with one accord;

Thee, our Master and our Friend,

Vindicated and enthroned,

Unto earth's remotest end

Glorified, adored, and owned!

Amen.

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