It may be at midnight when Jesus will come,
To take us away to our rest;
Tho’ dark be the hour He will scatter its gloom,
And we will be evermore blest.
When He doth come, His own to take home,
We’ll try to be ready to go;
On pinions of light, He’ll scatter earth’s night,
And wash our robes whiter than snow.
It may be at noon-day when all is so bright,
His brightness will outshine the sun;
He’ll take us away to a palace of light,
And give us the crown we have won.
At morning or noon or at night’s dismal hour,
It matters not when He doth come;
If we are but trusting in His saving power,
He’ll give us a precious sweet home.