On that bright and gold­en morn­ing,
When the Son of Man shall come,
And the ra­di­ance of His glo­ry we shall see;
When from ev­ery clime and na­tion
He shall call His peo­ple home,
What a ga­ther­ing of the ran­somed that will be!

Refrain

What a ga­ther­ing, what a ga­ther­ing,
What a ga­ther­ing of the ran­somed
In the sum­mer land of love!
What a ga­ther­ing, what a ga­ther­ing,
Of the ran­somed in that hap­py home above.

When the blest, who sleep in Je­sus,
At His bid­ding shall arise
From the si­lence of the grave, and from the sea,
And with bo­dies all ce­les­ti­al
They shall meet Him in the skies,
What a ga­ther­ing and re­joic­ing there will be!

Refrain

When our eyes be­hold the city,
With its ma­ny man­sions bright,
And its ri­ver, calm and rest­ful, flow­ing free;
When the friends that death hath part­ed
Shall in bliss again unite,
What a ga­ther­ing and a greet­ing there will be!

Refrain

O the King is sure­ly com­ing,
And the time is draw­ing nigh,
When the bless­èd day of pro­mise we shall see;
Then the chang­ing in a mo­ment,
In the twink­ling of an eye,
And for­ev­er in His pre­sence we shall be.

Refrain