- The
sands of time are sinking,
- The
dawn of heaven breaks;
- The
summer morn I've sighed for,
- The
fair sweet morn awakes;
- Dark,
dark hath been the midnight,
- But
dayspring is at hand,
- And
glory, glory dwelleth
- In
Immanuel's land.
-
- The
king there in His beauty,
- Without
a veil is seen;
- It
were a well-spent journey,
- Though
seven deaths lay between;
- The
Lamb with His fair army
- Doth
on Mount Zion stand,
- And
glory, glory dwelleth
- In
Immanuel's land.
-
- O
Christ, He is the fountain,
- The
deep sweet well of love!
- The
streams on earth I've tasted,
- More
deep I'll drink above;
- There,
to an ocean fulness,
- His
mercy doth expand,
- And
glory, glory dwelleth
- In
Immanuel's land.
-
- With
mercy and with judgement
- My
web of time He wove,
- And
aye the dews of sorrow
- Were
lustred with His love:
- I'll
bless the hand that guided,
- I'll
bless the heart that planned,
- When
throned where glory dwelleth
- In
Immanuel's land.
-
- Oh,
I am my Beloved's,
- And
my Beloved's mine;
- He
brings a poor vile sinner
- Into
His house of wine!
- I
stand upon His merit,
- I
know no other stand,
- Not
e'en where glory dwelleth
- In
Immanuel's land.
-
- The
bride eyes not her garment,
- But
her dear bridegroom's face;
- I
will not gaze at glory,
- But
on my King of Grace:
- Not
at the crown He giveth,
- But
on His pierce'd hand:
- The
Lamb is all the glory
- Of
Immanuel's land.
-