Lord, Thou wilt bring the joyful day!
Beyond earth’s weariness and pains,
Thou hast a mansion far away,
Where for Thine own a rest remains.

No sun there climbs the morning sky,
There never falls the shade of night,
God and the Lamb, for ever nigh,
O’er all shed everlasting light.

The bow of mercy spans the throne,
Emblem of love and goodness there;
While notes to mortals all unknown
Float on the calm, celestial air.

Around the throne bright legions stand,
Redeemed by blood from sin and hell;
And shining forms, an angel band,
The mighty chorus join to swell.

There, Lord, Thy way-worn saints shall find
The bliss for which they longed before;
And holiest sympathies shall bind
Thine own to Thee for evermore.

O Jesus, bring us to that rest,
Where all the ransomed shall be found,
In Thine eternal fullness blest,
While ages roll their cycles round.