T. S. M.
tr., Emma Frances Bevan, 1899
We are come unto Mount Zion,
On Thy holy hill we stand,
The crusaders whose march is ended,
The risen and the ascended,
All hail! Immanuel's land!
We are come unto the City,
Where our living God art Thou;
Thou Who barest our sin and sorrow,
Who comest in joy to-morrow,
Thou communest with us now --
To Jerusalem the golden,
To the Gates of Praise we come,
To the walls of Thy strong salvation,
The chambers of consolation,
The wandering ones brought home --
To the companies of Angels
We declare Thy glorious grace --
In the stoles by Thy Blood made whiter,
And crowned with a radiance brighter
Than they who behold Thy Face.
We are come to the great Assembly
Of the first-born sons of God,
The enrolled in the ancient ages,
In love's everlasting pages,
Names registered there in Blood.
With our God, the Judge of all men,
Undismayed, unshamed we meet,
For the tears of a sinner shriven,
The kisses of lips forgiven,
For ever anoint His Feet.
With the spirits pure and holy
Of the saints of ancient years,
Of the loved ones whom death made dearer,
The absent who yet are nearer,
We worship amidst our tears.
We are come unto Thee, Lord Jesus,
We have found Thee where Thou art;
In Thy still pavilion hiding,
For ever in peace abiding --
Our eternal Home Thy heart.
We are come where the Priest has sprinkled
On the everlasting throne,
On the Ark where Thy glory dwelleth,
The Blood that for ever telleth
The work is done.