Scarce dis­cern­ing aught be­fore us,
On our wea­ry way we go;
But one guid­ing Star is o’er us,
Beaming forth the way to show.

Watch we, pray we, let us sink not
Journeying on while yet we can;
At a mo­ment when we think not
Shall we meet the Son of Man.

See! e’en now the east is bright­en­ing;
See! the cloud of gloom is riv­en;
See! a flash more swift than light­ning
Gleaming all athwart the Hea­ven.

Christ hath come—oh, joy and won­der!
Clothed in ma­jes­ty sub­lime,
Glorious as the Son of Thun­der
Saw Him in the old­en time.

Hark, the trum­pets’ note is peal­ing;
All the dead it sum­moneth,
Endless life to some re­veal­ing,
But to some—the se­cond death.

Lo! a form from earth aris­eth,
Pure and lov­ely, who is she?
She it is whom Je­su priz­eth,
’Tis the Church, whose spouse is He.

See the robes of daz­zling bright­ness
That adorn the glo­ri­ous bride;
God hath clothed her in the white­ness
Of the saints all pu­ri­fied.

Hark! she hails Him: Thou that savest,
Thy sal­va­tion draw­eth nigh;
With the child­ren that Thou gavest,
Jesu, Bride­groom, here am I.

White robed bands of His re­deem­èd
Stand around her by the throne;
Sorrowful on earth they seemèd,
Now their great re­ward is shown:

For with joy how pass­ing fer­vent
Each doth hear the gra­cious voice—
Come, thou good and faith­ful ser­vant,
Come, and ev­er­more re­joice.