Lo! What a Glorious Sight Appears

Lo! what a glo­ri­ous sight ap­pears

To our be­liev­ing eyes!

The earth and sea are passed away

And the old roll­ing skies.

From the third heav’n

where God re­sides

That ho­ly

hap­py place

The new Je­ru­sa­lem comes down

Adorned with shin­ing grace.

Attending an­gels shout for joy

And the bright ar­mies sing—

“Mortals

be­hold the sac­red seat

Of your des­cend­ing king.

“The God of glo­ry down to men

Removes His blest abode;

Men

the dear ob­jects of His grace

And He the lov­ing God.

His own soft hand shall wipe the tears

From ev­ery weep­ing eye

And pains

and groans

and griefs

and fears

And death it­self

shall die.

How long

dear Sav­ior! O how long

Shall this bright hour de­lay?

Fly swift­er round

ye wheels of time

And bring the wel­come day.