O Son of God, we wait for Thee,
We look for Thine ap­pear­ing;
We bear Thy name, and on the throne,
We see Thy pre­sence cheer­ing.
Faith ev­en now up­lifts its brow,
And sees the Lord des­cend­ing,
And with Him bliss un­end­ing.

We wait for Thee, through days for­lorn,
In pa­tient self-de­ni­al;
We know that Thou our grief hast borne
Upon Thy cross of trial.
And well may we su­bmit with Thee
To bear the cross and love it,
Until Thy hand re­move it.

We wait for Thee; al­rea­dy Thou
Hast all our heart’s sub­mis­sion;
And though the spi­rit sees Thee now,
We long for op­en vi­sion;
When ours shall be sweet rest with Thee,
And pure un­fad­ing plea­sure,
And life in end­less mea­sure.

We wait for Thee in cer­tain hope—
The time will soon be ov­er;
With child­like long­ing we look up,
The glo­ry to dis­co­ver.
O, bliss! to share Thy tri­umph there,
When home with joy and sing­ing,
The Lord His saints is bring­ing!