The King is on His journey,
His heralds go before;
Soon shall the earth receive her Lord,
Nor mourn His absence more;
The dawn is leading in the day,
Ye sons of men, prepare His way.

The triumph of His victory
In battle songs proclaim;
Speak to the captive in his chains
The magic of His name;
He rules o'er freemen, not o'er slaves,
His arm is mighty, and it saves.

Bedeck His throne majestic,
Set forth His royal state;
With palms bestrew His onward path,
And open wide the gate;
His coming, lo, is now at hand,
Obedient, wait His high command.

O Jesus, King, come quickly;
Thy waiting people pine
To see the beauty of Thy face
And hear Thy voice divine;
The fealty of their lives to give,
In willing service while they live.