saw, and lo! a countless throngThe elect of every nation, name, and tongue,
Assembled round the everlasting throne,
With robes of white endued
(The righteousness of God).
And each a palm sustained
In his victorious hand,
When thus the bright melodious choir begun:
"Salvation to thy name,
Eternal God, and co-eternal Lamb,
In power, in glory, and in essence, one!"
So sung the saints, the angelic train,
Second the anthem with a loud Amen.
(These in the outer circle stood,
The saints were nearest God)
And prostrate fall, with glory overpowered,
And hide their faces with their wings,
And thus address the King of kings:
"All hail, by thy triumphant Church adored!
Blessing, and thanks, and honor too,
Are thy supreme, thy everlasting due,
Our triune sovereign, our propitious Lord!"
While I beheld the amazing sight,
A seraph pointed to the saints in white,
And told me who they were, and whence
they came.
"These are they, whose lot below
Was persecution, pain, and woe.
These are the chosen, purchased flock,
Who never their Lord forsook.
Redeemed from every sin,
And, as thou see whose garments were
made clean,
Washed in the blood of yon exalted Lamb.
Saved by His righteousness alone,
Spotless they stand before the throne,
And in the ethereal temple chant His praise.
Himself among them deigns to dwell,
And face to face His light reveal.
Hunger and thirst, as heretofore,
And pain, and heat, they know no more;
Nor need, as once, the sun's prolific rays.
Immanuel, here, His people feeds,
To streams of joy perennial leads,
And wipes, forever wipes, the tears from
every face."
Happy the souls released from fear,
And safely landed there!
Some of the shining number, once, I knew,
And traveled with them here.
Nay, some (my elder brethren now)
Set later out for heaven; my junior saints below;
Long after me, they heard the call of grace,
Which waked them unto righteousness.
How they have got beyond!
Converted last, yet first with glory crowned!
Little, once, I thought that these
Would first the summit gain,
And leave me far behind, slow journeying
through the plain
Loved, while on earth; not less beloved,
though gone;
Think not I envy you your crown.
No, if I could, I would not call you down.
Though slower is my pace,
To you I'll follow on,
Leaning on Jesus all the way.
Who, now and then, lets fall a ray
Of comfort from His throne.
The shinings of His grace
Soften my passage through the wilderness,
And vines, nectareous, spring where
briars grew.
The sweet unveilings of His face
Make me, at time, near half as blessed as you.
O might His beauty feast my ravished eyes,
His gladdening presence ever stay,
And cheer me all my journey through!
But soon the clouds return, my triumph dies,
Damp vapors from the valley rise,
And hide the hill at Zion from my view.
Spirit of light, thrice holy dove,
Brighten my sense of interest in that love
Which knew no birth, and never shall expire.
Electing goodness, firm and free,
My whole salvation hangs on Thee,
Eldest and fairest daughter of eternity.
Redemption, grace, and glory too,
Our bliss above, and hopes below,
From her, their parent fountain flow.
Ah, tell me, Lord, that thou hast chosen me.
Thou, who hast kindled my intense desire,
Fulfill the wish thy influence did inspire,
And let me my election know!
Then, when thy summons bids me come
up higher,
Well-pleased I shall from life retire,
And join the burning hosts, beheld at
distance now.
