Author: R. Chapman ~ Meter: 126.96.36.199.8.8.6.
O happy morn! the Lord will come And take His waiting people home Beyond the reach of care; Where guilt and sin are all unknown: The Lord will come and claim His own, And place them with Him in His throne, The glory bright to share. The resurrection morn will break, And every sleeping saint awake, Brought forth in light again; O morn, too bright for mortal eyes! When all the ransomed church shall rise And wing their way to yonder skies — Called up with Christ to reign. O Lord! our pilgrim spirits long To sing the everlasting song Of glory, honour, power; Till then when Thou all power shalt wield, Blest Saviour, Thou wilt be our shield, For Thou hast to our souls revealed Thyself our strength and tower.