William Henry Monk, 1875
Frances R. Havergal, 1873
Thou art coming, O my Savior!
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 thou 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,
Music rapturously sweet,
Pouring out our love to thee
At thine own all-glorious feet.
Thou art coming; at thy table
We are witnesses for this;
While remembering hearts thou meetest
In communion clearest, sweetest,
Earnest of our coming bliss;
Showing not thy death alone,
And thy love exceeding great,
But thy coming, and thy throne,
All for which we long and wait.
Thou art coming, we are waiting
With a hope that cannot fail;
Asking not the day or hour,
Resting on thy word of power,
Anchored safe within the veil.
Time appointed may be long,
But the vision must be sure;
Certainty shall make us strong,
Joyful patience can endure.
O the joy to see thee reigning,
Thee, our own beloved Lord!
Every tongue thy Name confessing,
Worship honour, glory, blessing
Brought to thee with one accord;
Thee, our Master and our Friend,
Vindicated and enthroned,
Unto earth's remotest end
Glorified, adored, and owned!