O Thou, Whom All Thy Saints Adore

O Thou

whom all Thy saints ad­ore

We now with all Thy saints agree

And bow our in­most souls be­fore

Thy glo­ri­ous

aw­ful ma­jes­ty.

Thee King of na­tions we pro­claim:

Who would not our great sov­er­eign fear?

We long to ex­pe­ri­ence all Thy name

And now we come to meet Thee here.

We come

great God

to seek Thy face

And for Thy lov­ing-kind­ness wait;

And O! how dread­ful is this place!

’Tis God’s own house

’tis Heav­en’s gate.

Tremble our hearts to find Thee nigh;

To Thee our trem­bling hearts as­pire;

And lo! we see des­cend from high

The pil­lar and the flame of fire!

Still let it on th’as­sem­bly stay

And all the house with glo­ry fill;

To Ca­naan’s bounds point out our way

And lead us to Thy ho­ly hill.

There let us all with Je­sus stand

And join the ge­ner­al church ab­ove

And take our seats at Thy right hand

And sing Thine ev­er­last­ing love.

Come

Lord

our souls are on the wing

Now on Thy great white throne ap­pear

And let my eyes be­hold my king

And let me see my Sav­ior there.