They come and go, the sea­sons fair,
And bring their spoil to vale and hills;
But oh! there is wait­ing in the air,
And a pas­sion­ate hope the spir­it fills,
Why doth He tar­ry, the ab­sent Lord?
When shall the king­dom be re­stored,
And earth and Heav’n, with one ac­cord,
Ring out the cry that the King comes?

Refrain

What will it be when the King comes!
What will it be when the King comes!
What will it be when He comes, when He comes!
What will it be when the King comes!

The floods have lift­ed up their voice—
The King hath come to His own, His own!
The lit­tle hills and vales re­joice,
His right it is to take the crown;
Sleepers, awake, and meet Him first!
Now let the mar­riage hymn out­burst,
And pow­ers of dark­ness flee, dis­persed:
What will it be when the King comes!

Refrain

A ran­somed earth breaks forth in song,
Her sin-stained ag­es ov­er­past;
Her yearn­ing, Lord, how long, how long?
Exchanged for joy at last, at last!
Angels car­ry the roy­al com­mands;
Peace beams forth through­out all the lands;
The trees of the fields shall clap their hands:
What will it be when the King comes!

Refrain

Now Zi­on’s hill, with glo­ry crowned,
Uplifts her head with joy once more;
And Zi­on’s king, once scorned, dis­owned,
Extends her rule from shore to shore.
Sing, for the land her Lord re­gains!
Sing, for the Son of Da­vid reigns!
And liv­ing streams o’er­flow her plains:
What will it be when the King comes!

Refrain

Oh, bro­thers, stand as men that wait—
The dawn is purp­ling from the east,
And ban­ners wave from Heav’n’s high gate;
The con­flict now—but soon the feast!
Mercy and truth shall meet again;
Worthy the Lamb that once was slain!
We can suf­fer now—He will know us then:
What will it be when the King comes!

Refrain