Behold a Host, Arrayed in White

Behold a host

ar­rayed in white

With palms they stand. Who is this band

Before the throne of light?

Lo

these are they of glo­ri­ous fame

Who from the great af­flict­ion came

And in the flood of Je­sus’ blood

Are cleansed from guilt and blame.

Now ga­thered in the ho­ly place

Their voic­es they in wor­ship raise

Their an­thems swell where God doth dwell

Mid an­gels’ song of praise.

Despised and scorned

they so­journed here;

But now

how glo­ri­ous they app­ear!

Those mar­tyrs stand a priest­ly band

God’s throne for­ev­er near.

So oft

in trou­bled days gone by

In ang­uish they would weep and sigh.

At home above the God of Love

For aye their tears shall dry.

They now en­joy their Sab­bath rest

The pas­chal ban­quet of the blest;

The Lamb

their Lord

at fes­tal board

Himself is Host and Guest.

Then hail

ye migh­ty le­gions

yea

All hail! No safe and blest for aye

And praise the Lord

how with His word

Sustained you on the way.

Ye did the joys of earth dis­dain

Ye toil­ed and sowed in tears and pain.

Farewell

now bring your sheaves and sing

Salvation’s glad re­frain.

Sing high your palms

lift up your song

Yea

make it my­ri­ad voic­es strong.

Eternally shall praise to Thee

God

and the Lamb be­long.