O quick­ly come, dread judge of all,
For, aw­ful though Thine ad­vent be;
All sha­dows from the truth will fall,
And false­hood die, in sight of Thee.
O quick­ly come, for doubt and fear
Like clouds dis­solve when Thou art near.

O quick­ly come, great King of all;
Reign all around us, and with­in;
Let sin no more our souls en­thrall,
Let pain and sor­row die with sin.
O quick­ly come, for Thou alone
Canst make Thy scat­tered peo­ple one.

O quick­ly come, true Life of all;
For death is migh­ty all around;
On ev­ery home his sha­dows fall,
On ev­ery heart his mark is found.
O quick­ly come, for grief and pain
Can ne­ver cloud Thy glo­ri­ous reign.

O quick­ly come, sure light of all
For gloomy night broods o’er our way;
And weak­ly souls be­gin to fall
With wea­ry watch­ing for the day.
O quick­ly come, for round Thy throne
No eye is blind, no night is known.