They've summoned me before them, But there I may not come,—
My Lord says, "Come up hither," My Lord says, "Welcome Home!"
My kingly King, at His white throne, My presence doth command,
Where glory—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.
Oh, Jesus! thy power, thy grace, thy justice, thy tenderness, thy truth, thy majesty, and thine immutability make up such a man, or rather such a God-man, as neither heaven nor earth hath seen elsewhere.