On Jor­dan’s bank the Bap­tist’s cry
Announces that the Lord is nigh;
Come, then, and heark­en, for He brings
Glad tid­ings from the King of kings.

E’en now the air, the sea, the land,
Feel that their mak­er is at hand;
The very ele­ments re­joice;
And wel­come Him with cheer­ful voice.

Then cleansed be ev­ery Christ­ian breast,
And fur­nished for great a guest!;
Yea, let us each our hearts pre­pare,
For Christ to come and en­ter there

For Thou art our sal­va­tion, Lord—
Our re­fuge, and our great re­ward;
Without Thy grace, our souls must fade
And wi­ther like a flow­er de­cayed.

Stretch forth Thine hand, to heal our sore,
And make us rise and fall no more;
Once more up­on Thy people shine,
And fill the world with love di­vine.

To Him, who left the throne of Heav­en
To save man­kind, all praise be given!
Like praise be to the Fa­ther done,
And Ho­ly Spir­it—Three in One!