O Thou, whom all Thy saints ad­ore,
We now with all Thy saints agree,
And bow our in­most souls be­fore
Thy glo­ri­ous, aw­ful ma­jes­ty.

Thee King of na­tions we pro­claim:
Who would not our great so­ver­eign fear?
We long to ex­pe­ri­ence all Thy name,
And now we come to meet Thee here.

We come, great God, to seek Thy face,
And for Thy lov­ing-kind­ness wait;
And O! how dread­ful is this place!
’Tis God’s own house, ’tis Hea­ven’s gate.

Tremble our hearts to find Thee nigh;
To Thee our trem­bling hearts as­pire;
And lo! we see des­cend from high
The pil­lar and the flame of fire!

Still let it on th’as­sem­bly stay,
And all the house with glo­ry fill;
To Ca­naan’s bounds point out our way,
And lead us to Thy ho­ly hill.

There let us all with Je­sus stand,
And join the ge­ner­al church above,
And take our seats at Thy right hand,
And sing Thine ev­er­last­ing love.

Come, Lord, our souls are on the wing,
Now on Thy great white throne ap­pear,
And let my eyes be­hold my king,
And let me see my Sav­ior there.