1
Let all the Saints their hearts prepare:
Behold the day is near,
When Zion’s King shall hasten there,
And banish all their fear;
Fill all with peace and love,
And blessings from above,
His church with honors to adorn,
The church of the first born.
2
Behold, he comes on flying clouds,
And speeds his way to earth,
With acclamations sounding loud,
With songs of heav’nly birth.
The Saints on earth will sing,
And hail their heav’nly King:
All the redeem’d of Adam’s race
In peace behold his face.
3
Before his face devouring flames,
In awful grandeur rise:
The suff’ring Saints he boldly claims,
And bears them to the skies:
While earth is purified,
In peace they all abide,
And then descend to earth again,
Rejoicing in his reign.
4
A thousand years in peace to dwell;
The earth with joys abound,
Made free from all the pow’rs of hell,
No curse infect the ground.
From sin and pain releas’d
The Saints abide in peace;
And all creation here below
Their King and Savior know.