Behold He Comes
Behold a host arrayed in white,
Holding palms in their hands, firmly stand
Clad like a thousand snow mountains bright
Before the majestic throne of light.
These are they of glorious fame,
Saved by the flood of His crimson blood.
Who from the great affliction came,
Now, cleansed from every guilt and shame.
Now, gathered in the holy place;
Where their anthems swell where God does swell
Worship proclaims as their voices raise
Amid the saint's and angel's praise.
Despised and scorned, they sojourned here;
As those martyrs stand, a priestly band;
But now, how glorious they appear
Living near God's throne forever.
In their troubled days gone by,
Our earthly home, below God's throne;
In anguish, they would weep and sigh.
By grace, their tears someday will be dry.
They now enjoy their Sabbath rest;
The Lamb, their Lord, the festal board,
The pashal banquet of the blessed
Invited only by the Holy Guest.
Then curse you, mighty legions – curse!
And praise the Lord, who with His Word
Keeps us safe and blessed as he bore the worst
To come for us in a raptured burst.
Your brought heaven's joys through earth disdained;
Welcoming and bringing Your saints to sing.
You toiled and sowed in much tears and pain;
Listening for Salvation's refrain.
Swing high your palms, lift up His song.
Eternally, we shall praise to Thee.
Hurry and make all the voices strong;
To God and the Lamb we now belong.