There was One came to die in the sinnerís stead,|
Who the fullness of grace brought to view;
He is coming again, Judge of quick and dead,
And I love His appearing, donít you?
I love His appearing, I do, (donít you?)
The glad day is nearing, ítis true;
He will take us on high
Where the saints cannot die;
I love His appearing, donít you?
Then the children of light who in Jesus sleep,
Will awake, by His word formed anew;
O this hope in my heart groweth strong and deep,
And I long to be like Him, donít you?
All creation has groaned in the thralls of pain,
While the faithful, the valiant and true;
Cry, ďO merciful Christ! take Thy powír and reign,Ē
For they look for His kingdom, donít you?
Then the heavens shall melt at their Makerís voice,
And the earth shall be fashioned anew;
At the glorious thoít how the saints rejoice!
For they know He is coming, donít you?