In Emmanuel's Land

The sands of time are sinking,

The dawn of heaven breaks;

The summer morn I’ve sighed for-

The fair, sweet morn awakes:

Dark, dark had been the midnight

But dayspring is at hand,

And glory, glory dwelleth

In Emmanuel’s land.

The king there in His beauty,

Without a veil is seen:

It were a well-spent journey,

Though seven deaths lay between:

The Lamb with His fair army,

Doth on Mount Zion stand,

And glory, glory dwelleth

In Emmanuel’s land.

O Christ, He is the fountain,

The deep, sweet well of love!

The streams on earth I’ve tasted

More deep I’ll drink above:

There to an ocean fullness

His mercy doth expand,

And glory, glory dwelleth

In Emmanuel’s land.

The bride eyes not her garment,

But her dear Bridegroom’s face;

I will not gaze at glory

But on my King of grace.

Not at the crown He giveth

But on His pierced hand;

The Lamb is all the glory

Of Emmanuel’s land.

~Anne R. Cousin

posted by Lydia