Dark and thorny is the desert

Through which pilgrims make their way;

But beyond this vale of sorrow

Lie the realms of endless day.

Dear young soldiers, do not murmur

At the troubles of the way;

Meet the tempest—fight with courage—

Never faint, but often pray.

2 He whose thunder shakes creation;

He that bids the planets roll;

He that rides upon the tempest,

And whose scepter sways the whole—

Jesus, Jesus, will defend you;

Trust in him and him alone;

He has shed his blood to save you,

And will bring you to his throne.

3 There on flowery fields of pleasure,

And the hills of endless rest,

Joy, and peace, and love, shall ever,

Reign and triumph in your breast.

There ten thousand flaming seraphs

Fly across the heavenly plain;

There they sing immortal praises!

Glory, glory is their theme.

4 But, methinks, a sweeter concert

Makes the crystal arches ring,

And a song is heard in Zion

Which the angels can not sing:

Who can paint those sons of glory,

Ransomed souls that dwell on high,

Who, with golden harps, for ever

Sound redemption through the sky.

5 See the heavenly host in rapture

Gazing on these shining bands;

Wondering at their costly garments,

And the laurels in their hands;

There upon the golden pavement,

See the ransomed march along!

While the splendid courts of glory

Sweetly echo with their song!

6 Here I see the under shepherds,

And the flocks they fed below,

Here with joy they dwell together,

Jesus is their shepherd now.

Hail! you happy, happy spirits!

Welcome to the blissful plain—

Glory, honor, and salvation;

Reign, sweet Shepherd, ever reign.