J. D. Smith

8.7.8.7.

RISE, my soul! behold, ’tis Jesus,

Jesus fills thy wondering eyes;

See Him now in glory seated,

Where thy sins no more can rise.

2

There, in righteousness transcendent,

Lo! He doth in heaven appear,

Shows the blood of His atonement

As thy title to be there.

3

All thy sins were laid upon Him,

Jesus bore them on the tree;

God, who knew them, laid them on Him,

And, believing, thou art free.

4

God now brings thee to His dwelling,

Spreads for thee His feast Divine,

Bids thee welcome, ever telling

What a portion there is thine.

5

In that circle of God’s favor,

Circle of the Father’s love,

All is rest, and rest forever,

All is perfectness above.

6

Blessed, glorious word “forever!”

Yea, “forever!” is the word;

Nothing can the ransomed sever,

Nought divide them from the Lord.

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