On Zi­on’s glo­ri­ous sum­mit stood
A nu­mer­ous host re­deemed by blood!
They hymned their king in strains di­vine;
I heard the song and strove to join,
I heard the song and strove to join.

Here all who suf­fered sword or flame
For truth, or Je­sus’ love­ly name,
Shout vic­to­ry now and hail the Lamb,
And bow be­fore the great I AM,
And bow be­fore the great I AM.

While ev­er­last­ing ag­es roll,
Eternal love shall feast their soul,
And scenes of bliss, for ev­er new,
Rise in suc­cess­ion to their view,
Rise in suc­cess­ion to their view.

Here Ma­ry and Ma­nas­seh view
The dy­ing thief and Ab­ram, too;
With eq­ual love their spir­its flame,
The same their joy, their song the same.

O sweet em­ploy to sing and trace
Th’am­az­ing heights and depths of grace;
And spend, from sin and sor­row free,
A bliss­ful, vast eter­ni­ty.

O what a sweet ex­alt­ed song,
When ev­ery tribe and ev­ery tongue,
Redeemed by blood, with Christ ap­pear,
And join in one full chor­us there.

My soul an­ti­ci­pates the day—
Would stretch her wings and soar away,
To aid the song, and palm to bear,
And bow the chief of si­nners there.

Sanctus (af­ter last verse)

Holy, ho­ly, ho­ly Lord,
God of hosts, on high ad­ored!
Who like me Thy praise should sing,
O Al­migh­ty King!
Holy, ho­ly, ho­ly Lord,
God of hosts, on high ad­ored!
Holy, ho­ly, ho­ly.