O Jesus, precious Saviour,
O! 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.