Now the shadows of the evening
Gently steal across the sky;
Soon we’ll see our Savior coming—
Lo, the hour is drawing nigh—
Coming for the pure and holy,
By His saints to be admired—
Those redeemed from every nation,
All in garments white attired.
We shall meet Him, we shall meet Him
With the angels in the air;
We shall crown Him King of glory,
In that morning over there.
Quickly as the lightning flashes, In the twinkling of an eye,
Shall these frail and mortal bodies
Put on immortality.
All that sleep shall then awaken;
Those redeemed of that vast throng
Shall with angels in the heavens
Join the everlasting song.
All who in the resurrection
From their sins have had a part—
Quickened by the Holy Spirit,
Made anew in life and heart—
On the morn of Christ’s appearing
Shall a crown of glory wear:
They shall rise to meet the Savior—
Oh, what rapture! I’ll be there.
At the thought of that bright morning
Not a fear steals o’er the soul
That is robed in white adorning,
Pressing forward to the goal.
Nay, reluctantly we linger
In this world of earthly night,
When we think of that fair morning
When our Lord appears in sight.
Into Father’s heav’nly kingdom,
Waiting in the realms of light,
We shall have abundant entrance,
We shall shine in glory bright.
Not a care shall dim its splendor,
Not a tear, or pain, or sigh;
Help me like that I may enter
Those fair mansions by and by.