The Sands of Time

 

The Sands of Time

The longer we live, the closer we get to the end of times. It seems dark and dreary at times, but dawn always comes and we have hope in what is ahead of us. We might like fresh water here, but in heaven it is the freshest, sweetest, tastiest. It is God’s love. The Lamb is all the glory.

Lyrics by Ann Ross Cousin, arranged by Edward F. Rimbault

“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 dayspring is at hand, and glory, glory dwelleth in Immanuel’s land.

O Christ! He is the fountain, the deep, sweet well of love! The streams on earth I’ve tasted, more deep I’ll drink above; There,  to an  ocean fulness, His mercy doth expand, and glory, glory dwelleth in Immanuel’s land.

Oh, I am my beloved’s and my Beloved’s mine, He brings a poor vile sinner into His “house of wine.” I stand upon His merit, I know no other stand, not even where glory dwelleth in Immanuel’s land.

The bride eyes not her garment, 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.

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