Classic Poem

There remaineth a rest.

Lord, thou wilt bring the joyful day!
Beyond earth's weariness and pains,
Thou hast a mansion far away,
Where for thine own a rest remains.

No sun there climbs the morning sky,
There never falls the shade of night,
God and the Lamb, forever nigh,
O'er all shed everlasting light.

The bow of mercy spans the throne,
Emblem of love and goodness there;
While notes to mortals all unknown,
Float on the calm celestial air.

Around the throne bright legions stand,
Redeemed by blood from sin and hell;
And shining forms, an angel band,
The mighty chorus join to swell.

There, Lord, thy way-worn saints shall find
The bliss for which they longed before;
And holiest sympathies shall bind
Thine own to thee forevermore.

O Jesus, bring us to that rest,
Where all the ransomed shall be found,
In thine eternal fulness blest,
While ages roll their cycles round!