Isles of the deep, re­joice! re­joice!
Ye ran­somed na­tions, sing
The prais­es of your Lord and God,
The tri­umphs of your king.

He comes, and at His migh­ty word,
The clouds are fleet­ing past,
And o’er the land of pro­mise see,
The glo­ry breaks at last.

There He, upon His an­cient throne,
His power and grace dis­plays,
While Sa­lem with its ec­ho­ing hills,
Send forth the voice of praise.

Oh, let His prais­es fill the earth
While all the blest above,
In strains of lof­ti­er tri­umph still,
Speak on­ly of His love.

Sing, ye re­deemed! Be­fore the throne,
Ye white-robed my­ri­ads fall;
Sing—for the Lord of glo­ry reigns,
The Christ—the heir of all.