’Mid the Splendors of the Glory

’Mid the splen­dors of the glo­ry

Which we hope ere long to share;

Christ our head

and we His mem­bers

Shall ap­pear di­vin­ely fair.

Oh

how glor­ious!

When we meet Him in the air!

From the date­less

time­less pe­ri­ods

He has loved us with­out cause;

And for all His blood-bought my­ri­ads

His is love that knows no pause.

Matchless Lov­er!

Changeless as th’eter­nal laws!

Oh what gifts shall yet be grant­ed

Palms

and crowns

and robes of white

When the hope for which we pant­ed

Bursts up­on our glad­dened sight

And our Sav­ior

Makes us glo­ri­ous through His might.

Bright the pros­pect soon that greets us

Of that longed-for nup­ti­al day

When our heav’n­ly Bride­groom meets us

On His king­ly

con­quer­ing way;

In the glo­ry

Bride and Bride­groom reign for aye!