1 Let all the saints their hearts prepare,
Behold the day is near,
When Zion's King shall hasten there,
And banish all their fear,
Fill all with peace and love,
And blessings from above,
His church with honours to adorn,
The church of the first born.
2 Behold, he comes on flying clouds,
And speeds his way to earth,
With acclamations sounding loud,
With songs of heav'nly birth:
The saints on earth will sing,
And hail their heav'nly King;
All the redeemed of Adam's race
In peace behold his face.
3 Before his face devouring flames
The suff'ring saints he boldly claims,
And bears them to the skies:
And then descend to earth again,
4 A thousand years in peace to dwell,
The earth with joys abound,
Made free from all the powers of hell,
No curse infect the ground.
From sin and pain released,
The saints abide in peace,
And all creation here below
Their King and Saviour know.