Don’t you see my Jesus coming?
Don’t you see, in yonder cloud?
With ten thousand angels round Him,
See how they my Jesus crowd?
Don’t you see His arms extended?
Don’t you hear His charming voice?
Each loving heart beats high for glory,
Oh! my Jesus is my choice.
Don’t you see the saints ascending?
Hear them shouting through the air?
Jesus smiling, trumpets sounding,
Now His glory they shall share.
Don’t you see the heavens open?
And the saints in glory there;
Shouts of triumph bursting round you,
Glory, glory, glory here.
Come backsliders, tho’ you’ve pierced Him,
And have caused His Church to mourn;
Yet you may retain free pardon,
If you will to Him return.
Now behold each loving spirit,
Shout the praise of His dear name;
View the smiles of their dear Jesus,
While His presence feeds the flame.
There we’ll range the fields of pleasure,
By our dear Redeemer’s side,
Shouting glory, glory, glory,
While eternal ages glide.