LO! what a glorious sight appears To our believing eyes! The earth and seas are passed away, And all the spreading skies.
From the third Heaven, where God resides, That holy, happy place, The new Jerusalem comes down, Adorned with shining grace.
Attending angels shout for joy, And the bright armies sing, ‘Mortals, behold the sacred seat Of your eternal King!’
The God of glory makes with saints His ever blest abode; We, the dear objects of His grace, And He our loving God.
His own dear hand shall wipe the tears From every weeping eye, And pains and groans, and griefs and fears, And death itself shall die.
How long, dear Saviour! O, how long Shall this great hour delay? Turn swiftly round, O wheels of time, And bring the welcome day!
Isaac Watts, 1674-1748