Dear Saviour, we would know Thy love
Which yet no measure knows;
For us it led Thee once to die;
From thence salvation flows.

Fain would we strike the golden harp,
And wear the promised crown,
And at Thy feet, while bending low,
Would sing what grace hath done.

Then leave us not in this dark world,
As strangers long to roam;
Come, Lord, and take us to Thyself.
Come, Jesus, quickly come!