He is com­ing back in glo­ry,
In the blest mil­len­ni­um time,
With the chant­ing an­gel chor­us,
And the gold­en harps sub­lime,
Through the blend­ing blue in beau­ty
Will the hea­ven­ly host ap­pear,
And the saints shall rise to meet Him,
Crying, Je­sus Christ is here.

He is com­ing back in glo­ry,
Then the dead in Christ shall rise,
In the splen­dor of His pre­sence
That will fill the earth and skies,
And the dawn­ing of that morn­ing
To the won­der­ing earth will bring
All the ma­jes­ty, and the so­ver­eign­ty,
Of Je­sus Christ, the Lord and King.

All the tow­ers of time shall crum­ble
That were built up­on the sand,
But the man­sions of God’s chos­en
In bright ma­jes­ty shall stand;
Rolling tide, and migh­ty deep,
See the ov­er­whelm­ing flood:
Nowhere will there be a re­fuge
For the soul, save in Je­sus’ blood.

Come, you saints of God, be rea­dy
For adown the hea­ven­ly street,
Shining an­gels strew their gar­lands
For the com­ing of His feet;
Tribulation and fear will pass away,
Gone the dark­ness and the pain,
Bars of hell will break at last,
Christ has come to for­ev­er reign.