"Behold, I come quickly," Oh, hasten Thy coming
   And fly on the tempest and ride on the cloud;
Around us the rage of the storm is increasing,
  The menacing roar of the billows is loud;
The earth holds no refuge, the world has no helper,
   And men's hearts are anxious and failing with fear;
Repeat the assurance that fills us with comfort
   When death and despair and destruction are near.

"Behold, I come quickly."  So come, we beseech Thee;
   But what are we doing to hasten the day
When earth shall be filled with the light of Thy glory,
   To bring back the King from the land far away?

Are we sowing the seed on the field and wayside?
   Or reaping the harvests long waiting and white?
Are we keeping our lamps filled and shining and burning,
   And holding them high in the darknesss of night?

"Behold, I come quickly."  So come we entreat Thee;
   But how are we helping to answer our prayer?
Do we gather the stumbling-blocks out of the highway
   And smooth the path for the feet that walk there?
Are we doing Thy will?  Are we giving Thy message
   To souls Thou has loved and redeemed on the cross?
Do we show forth Thy grace to the sad world around us?
   Thy patience in trial, Thy comfort in loss?

We watch for the signs and we love Thy appearing,
   We long for the peace that Thy Kingdom will bring,
But what are we doing to hasten Thy coming?
   And how are we helping to bring back the King?
          -  Annie Johnson Flint