Thou Art Coming

Thou art com­ing

my Be­lov­èd

Thou art com­ing once again;

Not a man of tears and sor­rows

But a king of kings to reign;

And to rule in re­gal splen­dor

Where such sor­row pierced Thy heart

Can it be

Thou best Be­lov­èd

Coming

nev­er to de­part?

We are wait­ing

we are watch­ing

We are wait­ing

we are watch­ing

For the com­ing of the Lord;

We are wait­ing

we are watch­ing

We are wait­ing

we are watch­ing

For the com­ing of the Lord.

We are wait­ing

we are watch­ing

For the com­ing of Thy feet

With our hearts aflame with glo­ry

Waiting at the mer­cy seat;

And tho’ winds and waves chas­tise us

While on life’s tem­pes­tu­ous sea

We would sure­ly sink and per­ish

But for hope of see­ing Thee.

Blessèd hope that makes the de­sert

Now to blos­som as the rose;

In the rough and rug­ged places

Still our hearts doth find re­pose

In the hope that we shall see Thee

And shall lean up­on Thy breast

And then reign with Thee for­ev­er

In the land of per­fect rest.