H. Alford
TEN thousand times ten thousand,
In sparkling raiment bright;
The armies of the ransomed saints
Throng up the steeps of light:
’Tis finished, all is finished,
Their fight with death and sin;
Fling open wide the golden gates,
And let the victors in.
2
What rush of Hallelujahs
Fills all the earth and sky!
What ringing of a thousand harps
Bespeaks the triumph nigh!
Oh, day, for which creation
And all its tribes were made!
Oh, joy, for all its former woes
A thousandfold repaid!
3
Oh, then what raptured greetings
On Canaan’s happy shore,
What knitting severed friendships up,
Where partings are no more;
Then eyes with joy shall sparkle
That brimmed with tears of late;
Orphans no longer fatherless,
Nor widows desolate.
4
Bring near Thy great salvation,
Thou Lamb for sinners slain;
Fill up the roll of Thine elect,
Then take Thy power and reign;
Appear, Desire of nations,
Thine exiles long for home;
Show in the heavens Thy promised sign,
Thou Prince and Saviour, come.
