The sands of time are sinking, The dawn of Heaven breaks; The summer morn I've sighed for, The fair, sweet morn awakes; Dark, dark hath been the midnight, But dayspring is at hand, And glory, glory dwelleth In Immanuel's land. The King there in His beauty, Without a veil is seen; It were a well spent journey, Though sev'n deaths lay between; The Lamb with His fair army Doth on Mount Zion stand, And glory, glory dwelleth In Immanuel's land. O Christ, He is the fountain, The deep, deep well of love; The streams on earth I've tasted, More deep I'll drink above; There to an ocean fullness His mercy doth expand, And glory, glory dwelleth In Immanuel's land. With mercy and with judgment My web of time He wove; And always dews of sorrow Were lustered with His love; I'll bless the hand that guided, I'll bless the heart that planned, When throned where glory dwelleth In Immanuel's land. Oh! I am my Beloved's And my Beloved's mine! He brings a poor, vile sinner Into His "house of wine;" I stand upon His merit, I know no other stand, Not e'en where glory dwelleth In Immanuel's land. The bride eyes not her garments, But her dear Bridegroom's face; I will not gaze at glory But on my King of grace; Not at the crown He giveth, But on His pierced hand; The Lamb is all the glory Of Immanuel's land.
I feel blessed to be able to listen such a soul lifting song.
I remember listening to this song years ago
The sands of time are sinking,
The dawn of Heaven breaks;
The summer morn I've sighed for,
The fair, sweet morn awakes;
Dark, dark hath been the midnight,
But dayspring is at hand,
And glory, glory dwelleth
In Immanuel's land.
The King there in His beauty,
Without a veil is seen;
It were a well spent journey,
Though sev'n deaths lay between;
The Lamb with His fair army
Doth on Mount Zion stand,
And glory, glory dwelleth
In Immanuel's land.
O Christ, He is the fountain,
The deep, deep well of love;
The streams on earth I've tasted,
More deep I'll drink above;
There to an ocean fullness
His mercy doth expand,
And glory, glory dwelleth
In Immanuel's land.
With mercy and with judgment
My web of time He wove;
And always dews of sorrow
Were lustered with His love;
I'll bless the hand that guided,
I'll bless the heart that planned,
When throned where glory dwelleth
In Immanuel's land.
Oh! I am my Beloved's
And my Beloved's mine!
He brings a poor, vile sinner
Into His "house of wine;"
I stand upon His merit,
I know no other stand,
Not e'en where glory dwelleth
In Immanuel's land.
The bride eyes not her garments,
But her dear Bridegroom's face;
I will not gaze at glory
But on my King of grace;
Not at the crown He giveth,
But on His pierced hand;
The Lamb is all the glory
Of Immanuel's land.
Did you intend to have the song repeat? It's on here twice.