by Arthur Griffith
That glorious morning comes at last
The tears of partings all are past
From plain and valley, hill and glen
The earth gives up the sons of men
And hark! a shout upon the deep
Which can no more its victims keep
As ransomed ones from every land
Are gathered in a shining band.
They knew and trusted Christ their Lord
And in their hearts His truth they stored.
In life and death, their faith was shown,
And now He claims them as His own.
The glory of His face they see
While wicked from its brightness flee.
Now sweeping onward through the sky,
No more to suffer or to die,
In vastness of eternal space
They catch new visions of God’s grace
Who to their tiny, fallen earth
Had sent His Son by human birth
To rescue them from death and loss
By His own death upon the cross.