The Master is come. O thou lost one, arise,
And hear His soft breathing to you.
Oh, list to His voice, He has come from the skies
Your soul with His mercies to strew.
He has come with a balm for the wounded and sore,
For the weary and burdened below;
He has come His bright banner your soul to spread o’er,
That you to the Father may go,
That you to the Father may go.

He has come and has shed His own precious blood,
The lost and the ruined to save;
He has shown His great love to His Father and God
By accepting the cross and the grave.
O my soul, He has come to encircle thee round
With a blessing too wondrous to tell,
And thou shalt forever rejoice in the sound
That “Jesus hath done all things well,”
That “Jesus hath done all things well.”

The Master has come, He has gone, and once more
He shall come in His glory again,
In His love to take up His redeemed ones before
His judgments shall fall upon men.
The Master has come—He is coming again—
He shall in His glory appear:
Then bow to Him, man, as the Lamb that was slain,
And His love shall cast out every fear,
And His love shall cast out every fear.