F. J. Crosby
ON that bright and golden morning when the Son of Man shall come,
And the radiance of His glory we shall see;
When from every clime and nation He shall call His people home,
What a gathering of the ransomed that will be.
What a gathering! what a gathering!
What a gathering of the ransomed in the summer land of love!
What a gathering! what a gathering!
Of the ransomed in that happy home above.
2
When the blest who sleeps in Jesus at His bidding shall arise
From the silence of the grave, and from the sea;
And with bodies all celestial they shall meet Him in the skies,
What a gathering and rejoicing there will be!
3
When our eyes behold the City, with its many mansions bright,
And its river, calm and restful, flowing free;
When the friends that death has parted shall in bliss again unite,
What a gathering and a greeting there will be!
4
Oh, the King is surely coming, and the time is drawing nigh,
When the blessed day of promise we shall see;
Then the changing in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye,
And forever in His presence we shall be.
