When pur­ple twi­light ga­thers,
And friend­ly stars ap­pear,
When day’s long task is end­ed,
And qui­et time is here,
I fold my hands and list­en,
For I think that Christ may come,
And I want Him now at twi­light,
When my day’s long task is done.

O glo­ri­ous, hap­py pro­mise,
Most com­fort­ing and sweet:
The Lord Him­self des­cend­eth,
His saints to­ge­ther meet.
The heav’n­ly trum­pet sound­eth,
According to His word,
We’re caught up in the glo­ry,
To be ev­er with the Lord.

So I’m watch­ing and I’m wait­ing,
Each mo­ment of the day;
It may be noon or ev­en­ing
When He call­eth me away;
It makes the day go fast­er,
And the tri­als ea­si­er borne,
When I’m think­ing ev­ery min­ute—
Today the Lord may come.