The Time Is Near

The time is near when Zi­on’s sons

With rap­tur­ous joy shall sing the song

Foretold by seers—an­oint­ed ones;

We have a ci­ty great and strong.

Open

ye gates! The glo­ri­ous King

Approaches with a ho­ly throng.

Open

ye gates! Saints

an­gels

sing

On gold­en harps the vic­tor’s song!

O right­eous na­tion! en­ter in

That kept the law of truth be­low

Enter the place

all free from sin

Where life’s pure waters gent­ly flow.

Within these walls shall they re­main

Who trust­ed

migh­ty Lord! in Thee:

Death

their last ene­my is slain—

They have a right to life’s fair tree.

Thus the re­deemed to Zi­on come

With songs and ev­er­last­ing joy;

Angelic le­gions waft them home

With shouts of praise their harps em­ploy.