The Marriage Supper of the Lamb.
By Uriah Smith
TUNE.—Tyrolese Evening Hymn. Come, come, come,
Come to the marriage feast
Prepared for saints above;
The Lord now bids his guests
To the banquet-room of love.
O why should the tinseled toys
Of this earth allure us here,
While pure, immortal joys,
Wait us in a happier sphere. CHORUS.—Come, come, come,
Come to the marriage feast,
Prepared for saints above;
The Lord now bids his guests
To the banquet-room of love. Come, come, come,
Soon will the day be o'er,
And hope's last hour be gone;
And mercy's voice no more
The day of grace prolong.
Life yet may we secure;
And the warning note is given,
Make now your title sure
To a lasting home in heaven. Come, come, come,
The weary pilgrim there
"Lays staff and sandals down"
A conqueror's palm to bear,
And an angel's glittering crown.
Then all the scoffs we've borne,
While this gloomy vale we've trod
"To lasting joys shall turn,"
In the city of our God.
U. S.