Verse 1
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 has been the midnight,
But dayspring is at hand,
And glory, glory dwelleth
In Immanuel’s land.
Verse 2
O Christ, He is the fountain,
The deep, sweet 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.
Verse 3
With mercy and with judgment,
My web of time He wove,
And aye the dews of sorrow
Were lustred by 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
Verse 4
Oh, I am my Beloved’s
And my Beloved is 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
Verse 5
The bride eyes not her garment,
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 piercéd hands;
The Lamb is all the glory
Of Immanuel’s land.
Verse 6
I’ve wrestled on towards heaven,
‘Gainst storm, and wind, and tide:
Now like a weary trav’ller
That leaneth on His guide;
Amid the shades of evening,
While sinks life’s lingering sand
I hail the glory dawning
In Immanuel’s land
Author: A.R. Cousin