The Church has waited long Her absent Lord to see; And still in loneliness she waits, A friendless stranger she. How long, O Lord our God, Holy and true and good, Wilt Thou not judge Thy suffering church, Her sighs and tears and blood? 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. Come, Lord, and wipe away The curse, the sin, the stain, And make this blighted world of ours Thine own fair world again.
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