Lord, Thy Ransomed Church Is Waking

Lord, Thy ransomed Church is waking Out of slumber far and near, Knowing that the morn is breaking When the Bridegroom shall appear; Waking up to claim the treasure With Thy precious life-blood bought, And to trust in fuller measure All Thy wondrous death hath wrought.

Praise to Thee for this glad shower, Precious drops of latter rain; Praise, that by Thy Spirit’s power Thou hast quickened us again; That Thy gospel’s priceless treasure Now is borne from land to land, And that all the Father’s pleasure Prospers in Thy piercèd hand.

Praise to Thee for saved ones yearning O’er the lost and wandering throng; Praise for voices daily learning To upraise the glad new song; Praise to Thee for sick ones hasting Now to touch Thy garment’s hem; Praise for souls believing, tasting All Thy love has won for them.

Set on fire our heart’s devotion With the love of Thy dear name; Till o’er every land and ocean Lips and lives Thy Cross proclaim: Fix our eyes on Thy returning, Keeping watch till Thou shalt come, Loins well girt, lamps brightly burning; Then, Lord, take Thy servants home.