The Scriptures reveal the glad story,
That sometime, and that before long,
I shall pass out of time into glory,
To join with the sanctified throng.
I shall pass out of night into splendor.
With the loved, we'll ascend to our home.
We shall greet with affection most tender,
When Jesus the Saviour shall come.
What wonder my soul thrills with longing:
For my love casts out every fear,
And I wait more than they for the morning,
For Jesus my Lord to appear.
I shall be by the bright angels taken
Up, up, through the blue bending dome.
I shall clasp the dear hands that awaken,
When Jesus the Saviour shall come.
My heart has lost all of its sadness,
For the future is drawing so near,
When the peace, and the joy, and the gladness
Of heaven's bright land shall appear.
No more dreary ways in the distance,
No more darkened pathways to roam,
But we'll enter an endless existence
When Jesus the Saviour shall come.
I shall go with my loved ones to heaven.
Their songs will be joyous and sweet.
I shall see the white robes they are given,
And list to the sound of their feet.
O, the pure, lovely flush on their faces,
As they enter their heavenly home:
The sorrows of earth leave no traces
When Jesus the Saviour shall come.
O, my heart is aweary with longing
For that bright, shining morn to appear:
What hopes in my spirit are thronging:
For I know, by the Word, it is near;
And warm in my heart is the glory
Of the "mansions" to which I shall come;
And as oft as I read the glad story,
I pray for the Saviour to come.
Then, no more weary ways in the mountains,
No thorns for the journey-worn feet,
But beside heaven's soft-flowing fountains,
The rest will be endless and sweet.
There are harps for the earth-weary fingers,
And crowns to the white brows shall come.
O, my thought there in Paradise lingers,
And I pray for the Saviour to come.
