AC
Verse 1
The sands of time are sinking,
The dawn of heaven breaks,
The summer morn I’ve sighed for,
The fair, sweet morn awakes.
Dark, dark hath been the midnight,
But day-spring is at hand,
And glory—glory dwelleth
In Immanuel’s land.
Verse 2
I’ve wrestled on toward heaven,
’Gainst storm and wind and tide,
Now, like a weary traveler
That leaneth on his guide,
Amid the shades of evening,
While sinks life’s lingering sand,
I hail the glory dawning
In Immanuel’s land.
Verse 3
Deep waters crossed life’s pathway,
The hedge of thorns was sharp;
Now these are all behind me—
Oh, for a well-earned harp!
O, to join the hallelujah
With yon triumphant band!
Who sing where glory dwelleth,
In Immanuel’s land.