My Coming King

I am wait­ing for the dawn­ing

Of that ra­di­ant gold­en day

When be­fore His king­ly splen­dor

All the mists shall fade away.

For the morn­ing that shall bring

Borne aloft on an­gels’ wing

In a cloud of glo­ry seat­ed

Christ

my glo­ri­ous

com­ing king.

For the morn­ing that shall bring

Borne aloft on an­gels’ wing

In a cloud of glo­ry seat­ed

Christ

my glo­ri­ous

com­ing king.

I am long­ing now to meet Him

To hear His wel­come voice

When His chos­en ones shall greet Him

While the mar­tyred saints re­joice.

Then the trum­pet sound shall ring!

And the hosts an­gel­ic sing!

O! with rap­ture I shall meet Him

Christ

my glo­ri­ous com­ing king.

Then the trum­pet sound shall ring!

And the hosts an­gel­ic sing!

O! with rap­ture I shall meet Him

Christ

my glo­ri­ous com­ing king.

Soon I hope to hear the sum­mons

To call the ran­somed home.

And I watch and wait the mes­sage

That shall tell my Lord has come.

Then

caught up to met my king

With the ran­somed ones I’ll sing

Praises to the Lamb vic­tor­ious

Christ my glo­ri­ous Lord and king.

Then

caught up to met my king

With the ran­somed ones I’ll sing

Praises to the Lamb vic­tor­ious

Christ my glo­ri­ous Lord and king.