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At God's right hand in countless numbers,
the just, made perfect, joyful stand;
freed from whate'er on earth encumbers,
they've gained the promised, heavenly land.
Our souls, with sweet anticipation,
by faith these glorious realms descry;
and from each kindred, tongue, and nation
we hear loud anthems fill the sky.
When, O when shall I have the favor
to see the approach of those blest days,
when I shall welcome my dear Savior,
with solemn strains, with joyful lays?
How blest will then be my condition,
when in my flesh I Christ shall see!
Though happy in his love's fruition
even here, with him I long to be.
What heavenly joy and consolation
this hope affords unto my heart,
that Christ, the God of my salvation,
will me receive when I depart;
Then in his presence I forever
with the redeemed shall sing his praise;
O make me ready, blessèd Saviour,
to leave this world and see thy face.