Shall I be there in the ransomed throng?
Shall I strike the harp and chant the song?
Shall I help to echo the glad refrain,
“Glory, glory to Him who was slain?” Shall I place my feet on that crystal sea?
Will those gates of pearl open wide for me?
Shall I, so poor, so unworthy, stand
With the blood-washed throng in the heavenly land? Will this trembling heart, so stained by sin,
In that precious blood be washed and clean?
Will Jesus accept me for his own,
When his jewels stand before the throne? Oh! shall I drink of the crystal fount?
Shall I stand on Zion’s hallowed mount?
Shall I eat of the golden-fruited tree,
Whose leaves shall for life and healing be? Oh! shall I be safe in those jasper walls,
When the threatened storm of vengeance falls?
Shall I see the reward on the sinner bestowed,
But have a right in the City of God? Oh! let me make Jesus my refuge here;
Soon, soon will his sign in the heavens appear!
Oh! then may I find my worthless name
Graved in the life-book of the Lamb!