Christ My Song - 801
Glorious and solemn hour - The border of his sanctuary
(Frances Bevan/Johannes Thomas Rüegg)
The border of his sanctuary.
1. Glorious and solemn hour,
thus at last to stand,
all behind us the great desert,
all before, the land!
Past the shadows of the valley,
past the weary plain;
past the rugged mountain pathway,
ne'er to be again. (PDF - Midi)
2. And before us, ever stretching
in its golden sheen,
lies the fair, the blessed country
where our hearts have been –
where our hearts have been whilst wandering
through the desert bare;
for the soul's adored, beloved One,
he abideth there.
3. Clad in love and glory stands he
on that glowing shore,
there to speak the blessed welcome,
all our journeying o'er.
Now at last our eyes behold him,
at his feet we fall;
two and three have we adored him,
now are gathered all.
4. All his saints from all the ages,
every clime and tongue,
all together now we worship
in a faultless song.
In the song no discord troubles
and no weakness mars,
sound we loud his Name belovèd
far beyond the stars.
5. That blessed song, first sung in glory
by his lips divine,
now, in chorus deep and endless
all his ransomed join.
Glorious and solemn hour,
on the verge to stand
of that endless day of worship,
of that blessed land!
6. Not our sorrow we remember,
all is lost in bliss –
but our shame gives deeper sweetness
to the Father's kiss.
Shame – that all that desert journey
nothing more could prove
than the marvels of his patience,
how divine his love.
7. Tale of weakness, sin, and folly,
tale of wandering feet –
tale of strength, and grace, and wisdom,
Sin and death and Satan trodden
'neath those feet at length,
in the glory of h i s triumph,
greatness of his strength.
8. Solemn hour – thus on the margin
of that wondrous day,
when the former things have vanished,
old things passed away.
Nothing but himself before us,
every shadow past –
sound we loud our word of witness,
for it is the last.
9. One last word of solemn warning
to the world below –
one loud shout, that all may hear us
hail him ere we go!
Once more let that Name be sounded
with a trumpet tone –
here, amidst the thickening darkness,
then, before the throne.
Frances Bevan, Hymns of Ter Steegen, Suso and others 1, 1899, 116-119.