Yea, Holy Je­sus! in the sac­red page
Thy tes­ti­mo­ny rings from age to age:
Of thee did Mos­es write and pro­phets sing,
Their glo­ri­ous an­ti­type, their hea­ven­ly king.
Thy ad­vent first to suf­fer, love and die,
Thy re­sur­rect­ion and as­cent on high,
Thy me­di­at­or­ship at God’s right hand,
Thy se­cond com­ing to the ho­ly land.

Ye Gen­tile peo­ple! hast­en to ob­ey
Thy Sav­ior’s Word, and search it day by day,
Praying that scales and beams may leave your eyes,
That ye may see by faith, by faith ye may rise
On ea­gle’s wings to hail th’ap­proach­ing hour
When Christ shall come—in ma­jes­ty and pow­er;
His pre­sence shames the sun, con­founds the moon,
While round His brow there shines eter­nal noon!