Scripture Verse

I come quickly. Revelation 22:20


William H. Monk (1823–1889)
National Portrait Gallery

Creative Commons License

Words: Fran­ces R. Ha­ver­gal, in The Rock, 1873. Com­posed at Win­ter­dyne, this is the first hymn she wrote af­ter her King took her by the hand and led her in­to the good­ly land.

Music: Be­ver­ley Will­iam H. Monk, in Hymns An­cient and Mo­dern, 1875 (🔊 pdf nwc).

Alternate Tune:

Frances R. Havergal (1836–1879)

Origin of the Hymn

Some time af­ter­wards, in an­swer to my ques­tion when we were talk­ing qui­et­ly to­ge­ther, Fran­ces said, Yes, it was on Ad­vent Sunday, De­cem­ber 2, 1873, I first saw clear­ly the bless­ed­ness of true con­se­cra­tion. I saw it as a flash, and when you see it you can never un­see.

Maria Havergal, Me­mo­ri­als of F. R. H.


Thou art com­ing, O my Sav­ior,
Thou art com­ing, O my king,
In Thy beau­ty all re­splen­dent,
In Thy glo­ry all trans­cend­ent;
Well may we re­joice and sing:
Coming! in the op­en­ing east
Herald bright­ness slow­ly swells;
Coming! O my glo­ri­ous priest,
Hear we not Thy golde­n bells?

Thou art com­ing, Thou art com­ing;
We shall meet Thee on Thy way,
We shall see Thee, we shall know Thee,
We shall bless Thee, we shall show Thee
All our hearts could ne­ver say!
What an an­them that will be,
Ringing out our love to Thee,
Pouring out our rap­ture sweet
At Thine own all glo­ri­ous feet!

Thou art com­ing! Rays of glo­ry
Through the veil Thy death has rent,
Touch the mount­ain and the ri­ver
With a gold­en glow­ing quiv­er,
Thrill of light and mu­sic blent.
Earth is bright­ened when this gleam
Falls on flow­er, rock, and stream;
Life is bright­ened when this ray
Falls upon its dark­est day.

Not a cloud and not a sha­dow,
Not a mist and not a tear,
Not a sin and not a sor­row,
For that sun­rise grand and clear!
Jesus, Sav­ior, once with Thee,
Nothing else seems worth a thought!
Oh, how mar­vel­ous will be
All the bliss Thy pain hath bought!

Thou art com­ing; at Thy ta­ble
We are wit­ness­es for this;
While re­mem­ber­ing hearts Thou meet­est
In com­mun­ion clear­est, sweet­est,
Earnest of our com­ing bliss,
Showing not Thy death alone,
And Thy love ex­ceed­ing great;
But Thy com­ing and Thy throne,
All for which we long and wait.

Thou art com­ing, we are wait­ing
With a hope that can­not fail,
Asking not the day or hour,
Resting on Thy Word of pow­er,
Anchored safe with­in the veil.
Time ap­point­ed may be long,
But the vi­sion must be sure;
Certainty shall make us strong,
Joyful pa­tience can en­dure.

O the joy to see Thee reign­ing,
Thee, my own be­lov­èd Lord!
Every tongue Thy name con­fess­ing,
Worship, hon­or, glo­ry, bless­ing
Brought to Thee with glad ac­cord!
Thee, my mas­ter and my friend,
Vindicated and en­throned;
Unto earth’s re­mot­est end
Glorified, ad­ored, and owned!