1. The Church has waited long
Her absent Lord to see,
And still in loneliness she waits,
A friendless stranger she.

2. The serpent’s brood increase,
The pow’rs of Hell grow bold,
The conflict thickens, faith is low,
And love is waxing cold.

3. We long to hear your voice,
To see you face to face,
To share your crown and glory then,
As now we share your grace.

4. Should not the loving bride
The absent bridegroom mourn?
Should not she wear the weeds of grief
Until her Lord’s return?

5. The whole creation groans
And waits to hear the voice
That shall restore her loveliness
And make her heart rejoice.

6. Come, Lord, and wipe away
The curse, the sin, the stain,
And make this blighted world of ours
Your own fair world again.