Blessèd Sav­ior, quick­ly come,
Gather Thine own Is­ra­el home;
Brought in grace to their own land,
Planted—by Thy migh­ty hand,
Then by Is­ra­el will be seen
What to them their God hath been;
Naught His pro­mise can re­move,
Naught can change His faith­ful love.

Countless years may roll away,
Yet His word can ne’er de­cay;
Every pro­mise He has giv’n
Stands more sure than earth or Heav’n;
He His love on Abr’am set,
He His word can ne’er for­get,
Soon shall Abr’am’s race, re­stored,
Prove how faith­ful is the Lord.

Then by foes no more op­pressed,
Israel shall for­ev­er rest;
Then all war and strife shall cease,
Nations know the joy of peace;
Israel’s sway shall Gen­tiles own,
While the Lord on Zi­on’s throne
O’er His people, blessed again,
Shall Him­self for­eve­r reign.