Scripture Verse

How long, O Lord? Revelation 6:10


Horatius Bonar (1808–1889)

Words: Ho­ra­ti­us Bo­nar, Hymns of Faith and Hope (Lon­don: James Nis­bet, 1857), pag­es 55–57.

Music: Con­so­la­tion (Men­dels­sohn) ar­ranged from Lied­er oh­ne Wor­te, by Fe­lix Men­dels­sohn, 1834 (🔊 pdf nwc).

Alternate Tune:

  • Annapolis (Hodg­es) John S. B. Hodg­es, in The Church Hym­nal, ed­it­ed by Charles L. Hutch­ins (Bos­ton Mas­sa­chu­setts, Par­ish Choir, 1898), num­ber 603 (🔊 pdf nwc)

If you know where to get a good pho­to of Ew­ing (head & shoul­ders, at least 200×300 pix­els),

Felix Mendelssohn (1809–1847)


Do they still lin­ger, these slow tread­ing ag­es?
How long must we still bear their cold de­lay!
Streak after streak the glow­ing dawn pre­sag­es;
And yet it breaks not—the ex­pect­ed day!

Each toss­ing year, with pro­phet lip hath spok­en,
Prepare your prais­es, earth awake and sing!
And yet yon dome of blue re­mains un­brok­en,
No tid­ings yet of the des­cend­ing King!

Darkness still dark­ens; near­er now and near­er
The lightnings gleam; the sea’s scorched bil­lows moan;
And the sere leaf of earth is grow­ing ser­er;
Creation droops, and heaves a bit­ter groan.

O storm and earth­quake, wind and war­ring thun­der,
Your hour is com­ing! One wild out­burst more,
One oth­er day of war, and wreck, and plun­der,
And then your de­so­lat­ing reign is o’er.

These plains are not your bat­tle­field for ev­er;
That glas­sy deep was ne­ver made for you;
These mount­ains were not built for you to shi­ver;
These buds are not for your rude hands to strew.

Flee and give back to earth its ver­dant glad­ness,
The early fresh­ness of its un­soiled dew;
Take hence your sack­cloth, with its stor­my sad­ness;
And let these wrink­led skies their youth re­new.

Give back that day of days, the se­venth and fairest,
When, like a gem new-set, earth flung afar
Her glo­ry, of cre­ation’s gems the rar­est,
Sparkling in beau­ty to each kin­dred star.

Come back, thou holy love, so rude­ly ban­ished,
When ev­il came, and hate, and fear, and wrong;
Return, thou joy­ous light, so quick­ly van­ished;
Revive, thou life that death has quenched so long.

Re-fix, re-knit the chain so harsh­ly brok­en,
That bound this low­er orb to yon bright Hea­ven;
Hang out on high the ev­er golden tok­en,
That tells of earth re­newed and man for­giv­en.

Withdraw the veil that has for ages hid­den
That upper king­dom from this ne­ther sphere;
Renew the fel­low­ship so long for­bid­den;
O God, Thy­self take up Thy dwell­ing here!