O Savior, is thy promise fled

O Savior, is thy promise fled?
Nor longer might thy grace endure,
To heal the sick and raise the dead,
And preach thy gospel to the poor?

Come, Jesus, come! return again;
With brighter beam thy servants bless,
Who long to feel thy perfect reign,
And share thy kingdom's happiness.

A feeble race, by passion driven,
In darkness and in doubt we roam,
And lift our anxious eyes to heaven,
Our hope, our harbor, and our home.

Yet, mid the wild and wintry gale,
When death rides darkly o'er the sea,
And strength and earthly daring fail,
Our prayers, Redeemer, rest on thee!

Come, Jesus, come! and as, of yore,
The prophet went to clear thy way,
A harbinger thy feet before,
A dawning to thy brighter day,—

So now may grace, with heavenly shower,
Our stony hearts for truth prepare;
Sow in our souls the seed of power,
Then come and reap thy harvest there.