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COME, LORD.

Come, for thy saints still wait; Daily ascends their sigh; The Spirit and the Bride say, Come;­Dost thou not hear the cry?

Come for creation groans,

Impatient of thy stay,

Worn out with these long years of ill, These ages of delay.

Come, for thy Israel pines,

An exile from thy fold; Oh call to mind thy faithful word, And bless them as of old.

Come, for thy foes are strong; With taunting lip they say, " Where is the promised Advent now, And where the dreaded day?

Come, for the good are few;

They lift the voice in vain; Faith waxes fainter on the earth, And love is on the wane.

Come, for the truth is weak, And error pours abroad Its subtle poison o'er the earth ,­An earth that hates her God.

Come, for love waxes cold,

Its steps are faint and slow; Faith now is lost in unbelief, Hope's lamp burns dim and low.