WHEN HE CROWNS HIS OWN IN GLORY.
By N. W. Vincent
When our Lord descends from heaven with His
mighty angel band,—
And that day comes on the prayerless like a
snare,—
Then He’ll gather all His loved ones from the sea
and from the land;
When He crowns His own in glory, we’d be there. When the Lord makes up His jewels bright and
radiant from the grave,
Looks of sweetness, robes of brightness, they will
wear;
When He comes in might and grandeur all His waiting ones to save,—
When He crowns His own in glory, we’d be there. Well, that morning is approaching, soon the Prince
of peace will come;
Then to meet His smile and plaudit let’s prepare;
So that when the angels waft us to our sweet, immortal home,
When He crowns His own in glory, we’ll be there. In that bright and awful morning then will come
the solemn end,
When God’s meek and patient children Christ will
spare;
Then will you and I, dear brother, each be found
His faithful friend,
When He crowns His own in glory to be there? Yes, our Lord is coming quickly, fairer, brighter
than the sun,
All His saints will gladly meet Him in the air;
Then they’ll share His smile and welcome; yes, His
sweet and true, “Well done!”
When He crowns His own in glory, we’d be there. Saints immortal, glad, triumphant, shout, “O Death,
where is thy sting?”
Then with Christ to New Jerusalem repair,
There to bow before the Father when presented by
our King:
When He crowns His own in glory, we’d be there.