Mark That Pilgrim

1 Mark that pilgrim lowly bending,
At the shrine of prayer ascending,
Praise and sighs together blending
From his lips in mournful strain;
Glowing with sincere contrition,
And with childlike, blest submission,
Ever riseth this petition:
"Jesus, come, O come to reign."

2 List again; the low earth sigheth,
And the blood of martyrs crieth
From its bosom, where there lieth
Millions upon millions slain:
"Lord, how long ere, thy word given,
All the wicked shall be driven
From the earth by bolts of heaven?
Jesus, come, O come to reign."

3 Kingdoms now are reeling, falling;
Nations lie in woe appalling,
On their sages vainly calling
All these wonders to explain;
While the slain around are lying,
God's own little flock are sighing,
And in secret places crying,
"Jesus, come, O come to reign."

4 Here the wicked live securely,
Of to-morrow boasting surely,
While from those who're walking purely,
They extort dishonest gain:
Yea, the meek are burdened, driven;
Want and care to them are given;
But they lift the cry to heaven,
"Jesus, come, O come to reign."

5 Christian, cheer thee; land is nearing;
Still be hopeful, nothing fearing;
Soon, in majesty appearing,
You'll behold the Lamb once slain:
O how joyful then to hear him,
While all nations shall revere him,
Saying to his flock who fear him,
"I have come on earth to reign!"

Source: The Seventh-Day Adventist Hymn and Tune Book: for use in divine worship #1140