ADVENT SONG by Frances Ridley Havergal

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Oct 31, 1895

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 21, No. 43.

ADVENT SONG.

By Frances Ridley Havergal

Thou art coming, O my Saviour! Thou art coming, O my King! In thy beauty all resplendent, In thy glory all transcendent; Well may we rejoice and sing! Coming! In the opening east Herald brightness slowly swells. Coming! O my glorious Priest, Hear we not thy golden bells!

Thou art coming! thou art coming! We shall meet thee on thy way, We shall see thee, we shall know thee, We shall bless thee, we shall show thee All our hearts could never say. What an anthem that will be, Ringing out our love to thee, Pouring out our rapture sweet At thine own all-glorious feet!

Thou art coming! Rays of glory Through the veil thy death has rent, Touch the mountain and the river With a golden, glowing quiver, Thrill of light and music blent. Earth is brightened when this gleam Falls on flower and rock and stream; Life is brightened when this ray Falls upon its darkest day.

O, the joy to see thee reigning, Thee, my own beloved Lord, Every tongue thy name confessing, Worship, honor, glory, blessing, Brought to thee with glad accord. Thee, my Master and my Friend, Vindicated and enthroned. Unto earth’s remotest end Glorified, adored, and owned!

—Frances Ridley Havergal.