O Jesus, precious Savior,
Oh, when wilt Thou return?
Our hearts, with woe familiar,
To Thee our Master turn.
Our woe is Thine, Lord Jesus;
Our joy is in Thy love;
But woe and joy all lead us
To Thee in heaven above.
We ponder the long story
Of this world's mournful ways;
We think on holy glory,
With Thee, through endless days.
We see God's gracious order
All spoiled by man below—
See all around disorder,
Meek hearts beset with woe.
Where'er we ope the pages,
In which—Thy wondrous word—
Man's path through varied ages
Is given us to record,
Of failure, ruin, sorrow,
The story still we find;
God's love but brings the morrow
Of evil in mankind.
To Thee we look, Lord Jesus,
To Thee whose love we know;
We wait the power that frees us
From bondage, sin and woe.
We look for Thine appearing,
Thy presence here to bless;
We greet the day that's nearing,
When all this woe shall cease.
But oh, for us, blest Savior,
How brighter far the lot,
With Thee to be forever,
Where evil enters not!
To see Thee, who'st so loved us,
Then face to face above,
Whose grace at first had moved us
To taste and know Thy love!
With Thee, O Lord, forever,
Our souls shall be content;
Nor act, nor thought, shall ever
Full joy with Thee prevent.
Thy Father's perfect favor
Our dwelling-place shall be;
And all His glory ever
Shine forth on us and Thee.
Oh, come then soon, Lord Jesus;
In patience still we wait,
Await the power that frees us—
Our longed-for heavenly seat!