Come, Thou Desire of All Thy Saints

Come

Thou de­sire of all Thy saints!

Our hum­ble strains at­tend

While with our prais­es and com­plaints

Low at Thy feet we bend.

When we Thy won­drous glo­ries hear

And all Thy suf­fer­ings trace

What sweet­ly aw­ful scenes ap­pear!

What rich un­bound­ed grace.

How should our songs

like those ab­ove

With warm de­vo­tion rise!

How should our souls

on wings of love

Mount up­ward to the skies!

But ah! the song how cold it flows!

How lang­uid our de­sire!

How faint the sacr­ed pass­ion glows

’Till Thou the heart in­spire!

Come Lord! Thy love alone can raise

In us the heav’n­ly flame;

Then shall our lips re­sound Thy praise

Our hearts adore Thy name.

Dear Sav­ior

let Thy glo­ry shine

And fill Thy dwell­ings here

Till life

and love

and joy di­vine

A heav’n on earth ap­pear.

Then shall our hearts en­rap­tured say

Come

great Re­deem­er! come

And bring the bright

the glo­ri­ous day

That calls Thy child­ren home.