O Sav­ior, Is Thy pro­mise fled?
Nor long­er might Thy grace en­dure,
To heal the sick, and raise the dead,
And preach Thy Gos­pel to the poor?

Come, Je­sus! come! re­turn again:
With bright­er beams Thy ser­vants bless,
Who long to feel Thy per­fect reign,
And share Thy king­dom’s hap­pi­ness!

A fee­ble race, by pas­sion driv’n,
In dark­ness and in doubt we roam,
And lift our anx­ious eyes to Heav’n,
Our hope, our har­bor, and our home!

Yet, ’mid the wild and win­try gale,
When Death rides dark­ly o’er the sea,
And strength and earth­ly dar­ing fail,
Our pray­ers, Re­deem­er! rest on Thee!

Come, Je­sus! come! and, as of yore,
Thy pro­phet went to clear Thy way,
A har­bin­ger Thy feet be­fore,
A dawn­ing to Thy bright­er day.

So now may grace with heav’n­ly show­er
Our sto­ny hearts for truth pre­pare;
Sow in our souls the seed of pow­er,
Then come and reap Thy har­vest there!