1
Thou art coming, O my Savior,
Thou art coming, O my King,
In Thy beauty all resplendent,
In Thy glory all transcendent;
Well may we rejoice and sing;
Coming! In the opening east,
Herald brightness slowly swells:
Coming! O my glorious Priest,
Hear we not Thy golden bells?
Thou art coming, O my King,
In Thy beauty all resplendent,
In Thy glory all transcendent;
Well may we rejoice and sing;
Coming! In the opening east,
Herald brightness slowly swells:
Coming! O my glorious Priest,
Hear we not Thy golden bells?
2
Thou art coming, Thou art coming;
We shall meet Thee on Thy way;
We shall see Thee, we shall know Thee,
We shall bless Thee, we shall show Thee
All our hearts could never say:
What an anthem that will be,
Ringing out our love to Thee,
Pouring out our rapture sweet
At Thine own all-glorious feet.
We shall meet Thee on Thy way;
We shall see Thee, we shall know Thee,
We shall bless Thee, we shall show Thee
All our hearts could never say:
What an anthem that will be,
Ringing out our love to Thee,
Pouring out our rapture sweet
At Thine own all-glorious feet.
3
Thou art coming, at Thy Table
We are witnesses for this;
While rememb’ring hearts Thou meetest
In communion clearest, sweetest,
Earnest of our coming bliss,
Showing not Thy death alone,
And Thy love exceeding great,
But Thy coming and Thy throne,
All for which we long and wait.
We are witnesses for this;
While rememb’ring hearts Thou meetest
In communion clearest, sweetest,
Earnest of our coming bliss,
Showing not Thy death alone,
And Thy love exceeding great,
But Thy coming and Thy throne,
All for which we long and wait.
4
Oh, the joy to see Thee reigning,
Thee, my own beloved Lord!
Every tongue Thy Name confessing,
Worship, honor, glory, blessing,
Brought to Thee with one accord;
Thee, my Master and my Friend,
Vindicated and enthroned,
Unto earth’s remotest end
Glorified, adored, and owned!
Thee, my own beloved Lord!
Every tongue Thy Name confessing,
Worship, honor, glory, blessing,
Brought to Thee with one accord;
Thee, my Master and my Friend,
Vindicated and enthroned,
Unto earth’s remotest end
Glorified, adored, and owned!
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Storrs, Connecticut, United States
Thou art coming, O my Savior!
This wonderful advent hymn was written at the village of Winterdyne in November, 1873, and first appeared in a local newspaper. It was afterwards published in a leaflet form with an accompanying tune also by this author -– for she was both a poet and a musician – – and very soon came to be a public favorite. The name of Frances Ridley Havergal, its writer, takes up prominent position among the sweet singers of Zion. Her spiritual songs have for many years been heard and sung all over the world.
Miss Havergal was born on December 14, 1836, at Astley in Worcestershire, her father, himself the author of several hymns, was a vicar of a little parish church there. Very early in life Frances gave evidence of the poetic gift with which she was endowed, and her being saved while still a girl in school, opened a way to serve God in this particular sphere which He allowed in order to be a channel of blessing in years to come. Writing to a friend at that time she says: “I committed my soul to the Savior, and earth and heaven seemed brighter from that moment. ” This was the young life which many years later was to give us the sweetest of all consecration hymns, “Take my life, and let it be. ”
Frances was a writer who possessed an exceptional gift for committing to verse words and ideas, almost as quickly as they presented themselves in her mind. And example of this is associated with one of her best known hymns written in 1858, on a visit to Germany. One day after a long walk, Miss Havergal arrived at the place where she was staying, tired and weary, and sitting herself on the sofa, her eyes fell upon a picture on the opposite wall, bearing the words, “I gave my life to Thee.” Immediately came to her the overwhelming thought of her Savior’s dying love, and taking a paper and pencil she wrote the entire hymn.
Most of Miss Havergal’s hymns were written on scraps of paper, and afterwards copied into school exercise books, many of which are still preserved. It is interesting to receive her own account of the way in which, in God’s hands, she exercised her remarkable gift. “Writing is praying with me; I never seem to write even a verse by myself, and I feel like a little child writing. Do you know a child would look up at every sentence and say, ’And what shall I say next? ’ This is just what I do. I ask that at every line He would give me, not merely thoughts and power, but also everywhere, even the very rhymes. Very often I have the most distinct and happy consciousness of direct answers. ” One can understand how so many of her songs have been so wonderfully used by God, for the writer lived daily In a spiritual atmosphere and a close communion with the Savior she so deeply loved.
Miss Havergal’s best loved hymn is “Take my life and let it be. ” It was written in 1874, and almost overnight became a worldwide favorite. It has been translated into about a dozen European languages. Stanza 4 reads:
Take my silver and my gold;
Not a mite would I withhold:
Take my intellect and use
Every power as Thou shalt choose.
No one better than Frances fully understood the spiritual meaning of this hymn for the life of Francis Havergal was indeed a life of consecration. One day she wrote to a friend: “the Lord has shown me another little step, and of course I have taken it with extreme delight. ‘Take my silver and my gold, ’ now means shipping off all my ornaments to the Church Missionary House (including a jewel cabinet that is really fit for a countess), where all will be accepted and disposed of for me. I retain a brooch or two for daily wear which are memorials of my dear parents, also a locket containing a portrait of my dear niece in heaven, my Evelyn, and her two rings; but these I redeem, so that the whole value goes to the Church Missionary Society. Nearly fifty articles have been packed up. I don’t think I ever locked a box with such pleasure.”
Frances’s health at times was aggravated by repeated attacks of illness, being that she lived a strenuous life, her labors being almost wholly devoted to the Master’s service. “She spoke, she taught, she sang, she prayed, she wrote for Him. She visited the sick and infirm, often undertaking long journeys in order to carry some message of love.”
In the autumn of 1878, Miss Havergal made her home at the Mumbles, Swansea Bay. Here, it was hoped would be found a quiet resting place, that she might recruit some of her lost vitality; but her compassion toward the poor of the Mumbles overtaxed her already diminishing health, and on June 3rd of the following year, Frances Ridley Havergal passed into the presence of the King. She was forty-two years old.
Among the many hymns of Miss Havergal, there is one of special beauty, “Lord, speak to me and I may speak,” which breathes out the tender longings and aspirations of a sanctified soul, so beautifully exemplified in the life of this godly writer. Here are the closing verses :
O give Thine own sweet rest to me,
That I may speak with soothing power
A word in season as from Thee
To weary ones in needful hour.
O fill me with the fullness, Lord,
Until my very hard o’erflow
In kindling thought, and glowing word,
Thy love to tell, Thy praise to show.
O use me, Lord, use even me,
Just as Thou wilt, and when, and where;
Until Thy blessed face I see,
Thy rest, Thy joy, Thy glory share.
I was enjoying a hymn with the word "rejoicing" and it was written by Frances Ridley Havergal; then I clicked on his name on the hymn to see what other songs he had written. Oh, my, he only lived 43 years... the songs are really wonderful and filled with experience, and suffering, and love to our Beloved, the One we are waiting for!!!! Press on, rejoice, love HIm, He is coming!!! Rejoice! Call on Him! Love Him... today!!!!
Wellington, New Zealand
A most marvellous hymn, it climaxes wonderfully in the last verse. So may we know the joy of Him reigning and ruling within, so that he can return and have His name vindicated, enthroned, glorified, adored and owned over all the earth!
Noblesville, IN, United States
Looking "forward to the return of Jesus Christ, our great High Priest. He has completed the work of atonement and now intercedes for us. We now await His return to take us to Himself."
Detroit, MI, United States
This hymn was sung at the funeral of Major General Sir Charles Scott Oct. 10, 1919. - Chief Men among the Brethren by Pickering
St.-Petersburg, Russia
Oh, the joy to see Thee reigning - He reigns over us, His real believers, even now.