WE SHALL SEE HIM AS HE IS.
Not as He was, a houseless stranger,
With no home to shield his head;
Not as seen in Bethlehem's manger,
Where the horned oxen fed. Not as in the garden groaning,
Plunged in deep, mysterious woe;
All the guilt of man bemoaning,
While the precious blood-sweats flow. Not as seen on Calvary's mountain,
Where he offered up his soul;
Opening wide that sacred fountain,
Which alone can make us whole. Not as he was, a pale and breathless
Captive in the shades beneath;
But as he is, immortal, deathless,
Conqueror o'er the powers of death! Yes! we shall see him in our nature,
Seated on his lofty throne—
Loved, adored by every creature—
Owned as God, and God alone! There countless hosts of shining spirits
Strike their harps, and loudly sing
To the praise of Jesus' merits,
To the glory of their King! When is passed time's rolling river,
We shall see him as he is—
Resting in his love and favor,
Owning all the glory his. There to cast our crowns before him—
Oh! what bliss the thought affords!
There forever to adore him—
King of kings and Lord of lords!