(Tune - Easton.)
"THE Lord Himself!" 'tis He
Whose death on earth we show;
His life, His power, His victory,
Through grace we know.
He shall from heaven descend;
"Chief Messenger," - 't is He
Whose coming shall faith's trial end,
And make us "free."
The dead in Christ shall rise,
And we, transformed as they,
Caught up with them in yonder skies,
His voice obey.
He'll meet us in the air,
Beyond the clouds of time;
In glory and in beauty there,
In joy sublime.
His signal-shout, "Arise!"
God's trump, our ears shall greet;
One blissful moment of surprise -
Our Lord we meet.
All need for patience o'er,
"Like Him" in truth and grace,
With Him in glory evermore,
Then face to face. H. K. B.