Laurence Tuttiett (1825–1897)

O QUICKLY come, dread Judge of all;

For, awful though Thine advent be,

All shadows from the truth will fall,

And falsehood die, in sight of Thee:

O quickly come; for doubt and fear

Like clouds dissolve when Thou art near.

O quickly come, great King of all;

Reign all around us, and within;

Let sin no more our souls enthral,

Let pain and sorrow die with sin:

O quickly come; for Thou alone

Canst make Thy scattered people one.

O quickly come, true Life of all;

For death is mighty all around;

On every home his shadows fall,

On every heart his mark is found:

O quickly come; for grief and pain

Can never cloud Thy glorious reign.

O quickly come, true Light of all;

For gloomy night broods o’er our way;

And weakly souls begin to fall

With weary watching for the day:

O quickly come; for round Thy throne

No eye is blind, no night is known.