In poverty and pain we wait
Thy glorious coming from above;
Make haste, O Christ, compassionate,
Make haste, make haste, Immortal Love!
Come, in thy plenitude of grace,
And satisfy thy people’s need;
Come, in the greatness of thy strength,
And make us, Jesus, free indeed.
Grant us thy peace, dear Son of God;—
To us the Holy Ghost be given;
In thee the Father’s fullness dwells,—
All, all is thine, in earth and heaven.
Infinite power belongs to thee,—
Thou hast the keys of death and hell;
Thy kingdom come, thy will be done,
Our Lord, our God,—Immanuel!
SUPPLICATION.
Jesus, King of kings, most holy,
Pity us in station lowly,—
Lonely pilgrims, wending slowly
Toward the city where thou dwellest.
Thou dost see us, weak and weary,
In the wilderness so dreary,
Mourning that we are not near thee,
In thy home so fair and blissful.
Yet thy promises do cheer us;
And thy Spirit, ever near us,
Bids us pray, for thou wilt, hear us,
And afford us help and comfort.
Hear thou, now, our supplication,
And relieve our sore privation
With the strength of thy salvation,
King eternal and almighty!