ARISE, despondent saints, Your hymns of worship take, And loud in praise of mighty love Bid every note awake.
Though in a foreign land, We are not far from home; And nearer to our home above We every moment come.
His grace will, to the end, Stronger and brighter shine; Not present things, nor things to come, Shall quench His light divine.
When we in darkness walk, And lose the heavenly flame, Then is the time to trust our Lord, And rest upon His name.
Soon shall our doubts and fears Subside at His control; His lovingkindness shall break through The midnight of the soul.
Wait till the shadows flee; Wait the appointed hour; Wait till the guardian of your soul Reveals His sovereign power.
The people of His choice God will not cast away, And they who wait upon the Lord Shall their salvation see.
Augustus Montague Toplady, 1740-78