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tr., John Brownlie



Wrapt in wonder and amaze,

On the throne of God I gaze;—

Sparkling are the gems abounding,

Sweet the harps and viols sounding;

See the palms of victory wave,—

'Twas the Christ the triumph gave.


Lo, He sits in glory now,

Thorns no longer clutch his brow,—

Glory, laud, and honour bringing,

Choirs of the redeemed are singing,—

Thus the King enthroned they greet,

And their crowns are at His feet.


Past, the life He lived below,

Gone the weariness and woe;

Now the painful strife is ended,

Christ a victor hath ascended,

Sin and death are bound with chains,

And the King Immortal reigns.


Ah! Good Lord, when life is past,

Bring me to such bliss at last;

Where love wakens gleams of gladness,

In the eyes that wept for sadness;—

Where the weary rest, and praise

Christ, the Victor King, always.

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