S. G. Stock

8.7.8.7.D.

LORD, Thy ransomed Church is waking

Out of slumber far and near,

Knowing that the morn is breaking

When the Bridegroom shall appear;

Waking up to claim the treasure

With thy precious life-blood bought,

And to trust in fuller measure

All Thy wondrous death hath wrought.

2

Praise to Thee for this glad shower,

Precious drops of latter rain;

Praise, that by Thy Spirit’s power

Thou hast quickened us again;

That Thy gospel’s priceless treasure

Now is borne from land to land,

And that all the Father’s pleasure

Prospers in Thy pierced hand.

3

Praise to Thee for saved ones yearning

O’er the lost and wandering throng;

Praise for voices daily learning

To upraise the glad new song;

Praise to Thee for sick ones hasting

Now to touch Thy garment’s hem;

Praise for souls believing, tasting

All Thy love has won for them.

4

Set on fire our heart’s devotion

With the love of Thy dear name;

Till o’er every land and ocean

Lips and lives Thy cross proclaim.

Fix our eyes on Thy returning,

Keeping watch till Thou shalt come,

Loins well girt, lamps brightly burning;

Then, Lord, take Thy servants home.