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ADVENT.

THE Church has waited long
Her absent Lord to see;

And still in loneliness she waits,
A friendless stranger she.

Age after age has gone,

Sun after sun has set,

And still in weeds of widowhood

She weeps a mourner yet.

Come, then, Lord Jesus, come !

Saint after saint on earth

Has lived, and loved, and died; And as they left us one by one,

We laid them side by side;

We laid them down to sleep,
But not in hope forlorn ;

We laid them but to ripen there,
Till the last glorious morn.

Come, then, Lord Jesus, come !

The serpent's brood increase,

The powers of hell grow bold,

The conflict thickens, faith is low,
And love is waxing cold.

How long, O Lord our God,

Holy and true and good,

Wilt Thou not judge Thy suffering Church, Her sighs and tears and blood?

Come, then, Lord Jesus, come !

We long to hear Thy voice,

To see Thee face to face,

To share Thy crown and glory then,
As now we share Thy grace.

Should not the loving bride

The absent bridegroom mourn?

Should she not wear the weeds of grief

Until her Lord return?

Come, then, Lord Jesus, come!

The whole creation groans,

And waits to hear that voice,
That shall restore her comeliness,
And make her wastes rejoice.
Come, Lord, and wipe away
The curse, the sin, the stain,

And make this blighted world of ours
Thine own fair world again.

Come, then, Lord Jesus, come !

RETURN UNTO THY REST.

CEASE, my soul, thy strayings!

Have they brought thee peace?

Come, no more delayings,

Cease thy wanderings, cease.

These vanities how vain!

Wander not again.

Thou hast found thy centre;
There, my soul, abide ;

Never more adventure

Now to swerve aside.

These vanities how vain!

Wander not again.

Thou hast reach'd thy dwelling;

Safe, sure anchorage

From the perilous swelling

Of the tempest's rage.

These vanities how vain!
Wander not again.

C

Tranquil hours now greet thee,
In thy calm abode;

Gracious looks now meet thee,
From thy loving God.

These vanities how vain!

Wander not again.

See yon star, love-lighted,
Sparkles from on high;
See yon hope, love-plighted,
Cheers thy heaviest sky.

These vanities how vain !

Wander not again.

Watch, my soul, the glory
Coming brightly up,

O'er yon forest hoary,

O'er yon mountain-top.

These vanities how vain!

Wander not again.

'Tis the bridal morning; Rise, make no delay;

Put on thine adorning,

Cast thy weeds away.

These vanities how vain !

Wander not again.

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