O ANGELS who have looked upon our wo,
And read in earth sin's dire malignity,
And read in men how it can plunge us low,
And read God's love in Christ on Calvary,
To-day I think with thrilling heart that soon
Ye'll see love's consummation and reward,—
The church of Christ made fairer than the moon,
The ransomed, the redeemed ones of the Lord.
Ye've seen the lepers spotted in the gloom,
Ye've seen the paralytic, helpless, mute,
Ye've marked the madmen raving 'mid the tombs,
And seen the world-wide bearing of sin's fruit.
Ye've seen how innocence is burnt from brows,
Seen lovely eyes with hate grow wild and hard,
And sorrowed gentle ones; but now hope glows;
Ye soon shall see the ransomed of the Lord.
Ye've seen the mighty bear away his prey
To death's foul prisons of decay and gloom,—
Nations swept down as harvests of a day,
To feed the world-wide gaping of the tomb.
Ye've seen the broken heart, the mourner's tear,
The God-like glory lost, the image marred;
But, O, the great Deliverer's army's near,
Ye soon shall see the ransomed of the Lord!
Down the great skies that open from the throne,
The choirs of heaven will march with harps a-ring,
And fair Emmanuel come to claim His own
From a usurping and despotic king.
The hosts of ill will wither at his eyes;
His brow by crown within a crown be starred;
His voice will bid the captive hosts arise;
The tomb will yield the ransomed of the Lord.
Then principalities and powers will fall,
And prostrate fall before the King of kings.
The ransomed of the Lord, now sad and frail,
Will rise triumphant as on angels' wings,
From continent and isle and ocean cave,
Like doves that fly the golden sky toward,
The church of God that Christ has died to save—
Will rise to Him, the ransomed of the Lord.
O, how ye'll sing, ye angels, how ye'll sing!
And how our voices, too, will swell the strain!
And how the heavenly worlds above will ring,
That we, the captives, wear no more a chain!
Ye'll hail us conq'rors in the city fair,
Where never more shall sin or pain retard.
Will ye not whisper to each other there,
And say, "How fair the ransomed of the Lord"?
Through world on world, with Christ our King above,
We'll pass, reflecting His divine, sweet grace.
And how ye sunken powers will look and love,
And marvel at the glory of each face,
Once earthly, sensual, now sweet beauty given,—
The image fair of Christ, untouiched, unmarred!
O angels, 'twill be joy enough for heaven
To contemplate this mystery of the Lord!