The Church has waited long

Her absent Lord to see;

And still in loneliness she waits,

A friendless stranger she.

Age after age has gone,

Sun after sun has set,

And still, of her dear Lord bereft,

She weeps, a mourner yet.

Saint after saint on earth

Has lived, and loved, and died;

And as they left us one by one,

We laid them side by side.

We laid them down to sleep

But not in hope forlorn-

We laid them but to slumber there

Till the last glorious morn.

The serpent's brood increase,

The pow’rs of hell grow bold,

The conflict thickens, faith is low,

And love is waxing cold.

How long, 0 Lord our God,

Holy and true, and good,

Wilt Thou not judge Thy suff’ring Church,

Her sighs, her tears, and blood?

We long to hear Thy voice,

To see Thee Face to Face,

To share Thy crown and glory then

As now we share Thy grace,

Come, Lord, and wipe away

The curse, the sin, the stain,

And make this blighted world of ours

Thine own fair world again.