1 Shiloh shall come—the Prophet cries,
As death illumes his closing eyes;
O'er people, kindreds, tongues he sways:
And Judah claims no more, the praise.

2 Thou long foretold—yet great unkonwn,
Shiloh! ascend salvation's throne.
Gath'rer of nations come, oh come!
Leader! Commander, guide us home!

3 Speak but the word, and light shall be;
That light of life which points to thee;
Where all thy works—ador'd I AM!
Shall glorify thy glorious name.