Advent Sunday

O'er the distant mountains breaking
Comes the reddening dawn of day.
Rise, my soul, from sleep awaking.
Rise and sing, and watch and pray:
'Tis thy Saviour
On His bright returning way.

Thou long-expected! weary
Waits mine anxious soul for Thee,
Life is dark, and earth is dreary
Where Thy light I do not see;
my Saviour!
When wilt Thou return to me?

Long, too long, in sin and sadness,
Far away from Thee I pine,
When, when, shall I the gladness
Of Thy Spirit feel in mine?
O my Saviour!
When shall I he wholly Thine?

Nearer is my soul's salvation.
Spent the night, the day at hand,
Keep me in my lowly station,
Watching for Thee, till I stand,
O my Saviour!
In Thy bright and promised land.

With my lamp well trimm'd and burning.
Swift to hear, and slow to roam.
Watching for Thy glad returning
To restore me to my home.
Come, my Saviour!
my Saviour, quickly come!