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Coming, com­ing, yes they are,
Coming, com­ing from afar,

From the wild and scorch­ing de­sert,
Afric’s sons awaked from sleep;
Jesus’ love has drawn and won them,
At His cross they bow and weep.

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From the fields and crowd­ed ci­ties,
China ga­thers to His feet;
In His love Shem’s gen­tle child­ren,
Now have found a safe re­treat.

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From the In­dus, and the Gan­ges,
Steady flows the liv­ing stream,
To love’s ocean, to His bo­som,
Calvary their won­d’ring theme.

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From the steppes of Rus­sia drea­ry,
From Sla­von­ia’s scat­tered lands,
They are yield­ing soul and spi­rit
Into Je­sus’ lov­ing hands.

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From the froz­en realms of mid­night,
Over many a wea­ry mile,
To ex­change their soul’s long win­ter
For the sum­mer of His smile.

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All to meet in plains of glo­ry,
All to sing His prais­es sweet;
What a cho­rus, what a meet­ing,
With the fa­mi­ly com­plete!

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