Comfort, comfort ye My people,
Speak ye peace, thus saith our God;
Comfort those who sit in darkness,
Mourning ’neath their sorrow’s load;
Speak ye to Jerusalem
Of the peace that waits for them;
Tell her that her sins I cover,
And her warfare now is over.

For the herald’s voice is crying
In the desert far and near,
Bidding all men to repentance,
Since the kingdom now is here.
O that warning cry obey!
Now prepare for God a way!
Let the valleys rise to meet Him,
And the hills bow down to greet Him.

Yea, her sins our God will pardon,
Blotting out each dark misdeed;
All that well deserved His anger
He will no more see nor heed.
She has suffered many a day,
Now her griefs have passed away,
God will change her pining sadness
Into ever springing gladness.

Make ye straight what long was crooked,
Make the rougher places plain:
Let your hearts be true and humble,
As befits His holy reign,
For the glory of the Lord
Now o’er the earth is shed abroad,
And all flesh shall see the token
That His Word is never broken.

Safe home, safe home in port!
Rent cordage, shattered deck,
Torn sails, provisions short,
And only not a wreck;
But oh! the joy upon the shore
To tell our voyage—perils o’er!

The prize, the prize secure!
The athlete nearly fell;
Bare all he could endure,
And bare not always well;
But he may smile at troubles gone
Who sets the victor-garland on.

No more the foe can harm;
No more of leaguered camp,
And cry of night alarm,
And need of ready lamp;
And yet how nearly he had failed—
How nearly had that foe prevailed!

The lamb is in the fold,
In perfect safety penned;
The lion once had hold,
And thought to make an end;
But One came by with wounded side,
And for the sheep the Shepherd died.

The exile is at home!
O nights and days of tears,
O longings not to roam,
O sins and doubts and fears;
What matters now grief’s darkest day?
The King has wiped those tears away

Draw nigh to Thy Jerusalem, O Lord,
Thy faithful people cry with one accord;
Ride on in triumph; Lord, behold we lay
Our passions, lusts, and proud wills in Thy way!

Thy road is ready; and Thy paths made straight,
With longing expectation seem to wait
The consecration of Thy beauteous feet,
And silently Thy promised advent greet!

Hosanna! welcome to our hearts! for here
Thou hast a temple, too, as Zion dear;
O enter in, dear Lord, unbar the door;
And in that temple dwell forevermore.

Heralds of Christ, who bear the King’s commands,
Immortal tidings in your mortal hands,
Pass on and carry swift the news you bring;
Make straight, make straight the highway of the King.

Through desert ways, dark fen and deep morass,
Through jungles, sluggish seas, and mountain pass,
Build now the road, and falter not, nor stay;
Prepare across the earth the King’s highway.

Where once the twisting trail in darkness wound,
Let marching feet and joyous song resound,
Where burn the funeral pyres, and censers swing,
Make straight, make straight the highway of the King.

Lord, give us faith and strength the road to build,
To see the promise of the day fulfilled,
When war shall be no more, and strife shall cease
Upon the highway of the Prince of Peace.

Out on the desert, looking, looking,
Sinner, ’tis Jesus looking for thee;
Tenderly calling, calling, calling,
Hither, thou lost one, O come unto Me.

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Jesus is looking, Jesus is calling,
Why dost thou linger, why tarry away?
Run to Him quickly, say to Him gladly,
Lord I am coming, coming today.

Still He is waiting, waiting, waiting,
O, what compassion beams in His eye,
Hear Him repeating, gently, gently,
Come to thy Savior, O, why wilt thou die?

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Lovingly pleading, pleading, pleading,
Mercy, though slighted, bears with thee yet;
Thou canst be happy, happy, happy,
Come, ere thy life-star forever shall set.

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Spirits in glory, watching, watching,
Long to behold thee safe in the fold;
Angels are waiting, waiting, waiting,
When shall thy story with rapture be told?

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Prepare the way, O Zion!
Ye awful deeps, rise high;
Sink low, ye towering mountains,
The Lord is drawing nigh;
The righteous King of glory,
Foretold in sacred story.

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O blest is He that came
In God the Father’s Name.

O Zion, He approacheth,
Thy Lord and King for aye!
Strew palms where He advanceth,
Spread garments in His way.
God’s promise faileth never,
Hosanna sound forever!

Fling wide thy portals, Zion
And hail thy glorious King;
His tidings of salvation
To every people bring,
Who, waiting yet in sadness,
Would sing His praise in gladness.

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He cometh not with warriors,
And not with pomp and show,
Yet smiteth He with terror
Sin, death, and every foe.
The Spirit’s sword He wieldeth,
Not e’en to death He yieldeth.

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Give heed, thou sinful people,
Thy King and Savior own;
The kingdom He hath founded
Is not an earthly one;
No power can overthrow it,
Nor earthly wisdom know it.

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The throne which He ascendeth
Is fixed in heaven above:
His sanctified dominion
Is light alone and love.
His praise be ever sounding
For grace and peace abounding.

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Jerusalem is fallen,
And closed its temple door;
Its sacrifices ended;
Its scepter is no more.
Christ’s kingdom never ceaseth,
Its glory still increaseth.

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Ye sons of men, oh, hearken:
Your heart and mind prepare;
To hail th’almighty Savior,
Oh sinners, be your care.
He Who of grace alone
Our Life and Light was given,
The promised Lord from Heaven,
Unto our world is shown.

Prepare the way before Him;
Prepare for Him the best.
Cast out whate’er offendeth
This great, this heav’nly Guest.
Make straight, make plain, the way:
The lowly valleys raising,
The heights of pride abasing,
His path all even lay.

The humble heart and lowly
God lifteth up on high;
Beneath His feet in anguish
The haughty soul shall lie.
The heart, sincere and right,
That heeds God’s invitation
And makes true preparation,
It is the Lord’s delight.

Prepare my heart, Lord Jesus,
Turn not from me aside,
And grant that I receive Thee
This blessèd Adventide.
From stall and manger low
Come Thou to dwell within me;
Loud praises will I sing Thee
And forth Thy glory show.

Here, Lord, we offer Thee all that is fairest,
Bloom from the garden, and flowers from the field;
Gifts for the stricken ones, knowing Thou carest
More for the love than the wealth that we yield.

Send, Lord, by these to the sick and the dying,
Speak to their hearts with a message of peace;
Comfort the sad, who in weakness are lying,
Grant the departing a gentle release.

Raise, Lord, to health those again who have sickened,
Fair be their lives as the roses in bloom;
Give of Thy grace to the souls Thou hast quickened,
Gladness for sorrow, and brightness for gloom.

We, Lord, like flowers, must bloom and must wither;
We, like these blooms, must fade and must die;
Gather us, Lord, to Thy bosom forever,
Grant us a place in Thy house in the sky.

The voice says, “Cry!” What shall we cry?
“All flesh is grass, and like the flower
Its glories droop, its pleasures die,
Its joys but last one fleeting hour.”

The voice says, “Cry!” O piteous cry!
And are there none to help and save?
Have all that live beneath the sky
No other prospect but a grave?

The voice says, “Cry!” Yet glorious cry!
The Word of God can never fall,
And tells how Jesus, throned on high,
Holds out eternal life to all.

The voice says, “Cry!” Who needs the cry?
O brother men! who needs it not?
By countless millions, far and nigh,
’Tis still unheard, despised, forgot.

The voice says, “Cry!” What stops the cry?
Our greed of wealth, our love of ease,
Our lack of earnest will to try
Mankind to save, and God to please.

The voice says, “Cry!” O let us cry!
Though standing on death’s awful brink,
Men feast, they jest, they sell, they buy,
And cannot see, and will not think.

The voice says, “Cry!” Lord, we would cry
But of Thy goodness teach us how;
For fast the hours of mercy fly,
And, if we cry, it must be now!

The Bible stands like a rock undaunted
’Mid the raging storms of time;
Its pages burn with the truth eternal,
And they glow with a light sublime.

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The Bible stands though the hills may tumble,
It will firmly stand when the earth shall crumble;
I will plant my feet on its firm foundation,
For the Bible stands.

The Bible stands like a mountain towering
Far above the works of men;
Its truth by none ever was refuted,
And destroy it they never can.

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The Bible stands and it will forever,
When the world has passed away;
By inspiration it has been given,
All its precepts I will obey.

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The Bible stands every test we give it,
For its Author is divine;
By grace alone I expect to live it,
And to prove and to make it mine.

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From the Word of God light is shining brightly out
O’er life’s ocean, tempest driv’n,
Guiding past the rocks and the hidden shoals of doubt
To the blissful port of Heav’n.

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The old Book stands! O yes, it stands!
Firm as a rock ’mid shifting sands!
Billows may run high, tempests sweep the sky;
Firmly the old Book stands!

All its promises are more precious, far, than gold,
Or than pearls from deepest sea;
“Whosoever will” is the truth it doth unfold,
Precious truth for you and me.

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In this precious Book is the dear old story told,
Of the Savior and His love;
And with joy we read of the streets of purest gold,
The Jerusalem above.

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Precious Book of life, let us treasure each command,
Heeding every precept giv’n,
Till the strife is o’er and victorious we stand
With the blood washed throng in Heav’n.

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Jerusalem, lift up thy voice!
Daughter of Zion, now rejoice!
Thy King is come, whose mighty hand
Henceforth shall reign o’er every land.

He comes to every tribe and race,
A Messenger of truth and grace:
With peace He comes from Heaven above
On earth to found His realm of love.

In God’s eternal covenant,
He comes for our salvation sent.
The star of hope moves on before,
And hosts assemble to adore.

Let all the world with one accord
Now hail the coming of the Lord:
Praise to the Prince of heavenly birth
Who bringeth peace to all the earth.