93 lines
6.5 KiB
HTML
93 lines
6.5 KiB
HTML
<html><head>
|
|
<script src="../../js/basepath.js" type="text/javascript"></script>
|
|
<script src="./js/nav.js" type="text/javascript"></script>
|
|
<script src="./js/MainHeader.js" type="text/javascript"></script>
|
|
<title>BLB Hymns</title>
|
|
<h2>THE SANDS OF TIME ARE SINKING</h2>
|
|
<p align="center"><h3>“The wedding of the Lamb has come, and His bride has made herself ready.” Revelation 19:7</h3></p>
|
|
<center><b>Hymns Supplied Through the Gracious Generosity<br>of the </b><a href="http://www.hymntime.com/tch/" target = "_blank"><b>Cyber Hymnal Website</b></a><br><br><a href="./hymns/hymns_html/cyberhymnal_info.html" target = "_blank">Information about Cyber Hymnal Website</a></center>
|
|
<hr>
|
|
<p><em>Words:</em> <a href="./hymns/hymns_bio/bio_c_o_cousin_arc.html" target="_blank">Anne Ross Cundell Cousin</a>, in <em>The Christian Treasury</em>, 1857. From this hymn came the title of Cousin’s 1876 work, <em>Immanuel’s Land and other Pieces by A. R. C.</em></p>
|
|
<p><em>Music:</em> “Rutherford,” <a href="./hymns/hymns_bio/bio_d_u_durhan_c.html" target="_blank">Chrétien d’Urhan</a>, 1734; arranged by <a href="./hymns/hymns_bio/bio_r_i_rimbault_ef.html" target="_blank">Edward Francis Rimbault</a>, 1867 </p><p><table><tr><td><a href="./hymns/hymns_mid/mid_r_ruthford.mid" target = "_blank"><img border=0 src="./hymns/hymns_img/notes.gif"><br><b>Play MIDI</b></a></td><td> </td><td><a href="./hymns/hymns_html/score_info.html" target = "_blank"><b>Link to obtain<br>musical score info</b></a></td></tr></table></p>
|
|
<hr>
|
|
<div class="lyrics">
|
|
<p>The sands of time are sinking, the dawn of heaven breaks;<br>
|
|
The summer morn I’ve sighed for—the fair, sweet morn awakes:<br>
|
|
Dark, dark hath been the midnight, but dayspring is at hand,<br>
|
|
And glory, glory dwelleth in Immanuel’s land.</p>
|
|
<p>O Christ, He is the fountain, the deep, sweet well of love!<br>
|
|
The streams of earth I’ve tasted more deep I’ll drink above:<br>
|
|
There to an ocean fullness His mercy doth expand,<br>
|
|
And glory, glory dwelleth in Immanuel’s land.</p>
|
|
<p>Oh! Well it is forever, Oh! well forevermore,<br>
|
|
My nest hung in no forest of all this death doomed shore:<br>
|
|
Yea, let the vain world vanish, as from the ship the strand,<br>
|
|
While glory—glory dwelleth in Immanuel’s land.</p>
|
|
<p>There the Red Rose of Sharon unfolds its heartsome bloom<br>
|
|
And fills the air of heaven with ravishing perfume:<br>
|
|
Oh! To behold it blossom, while by its fragrance fanned<br>
|
|
Where glory—glory dwelleth in Immanuel’s land.</p>
|
|
<p>The King there in His beauty, without a veil is seen:<br>
|
|
It were a well spent journey, though seven deaths lay between:<br>
|
|
The Lamb with His fair army, doth on Mount Zion stand,<br>
|
|
And glory—glory dwelleth in Immanuel’s land.</p>
|
|
<p>Oft in yon sea beat prison My Lord and I held tryst,<br>
|
|
For Anwoth was not heaven, and preaching was not Christ:<br>
|
|
And aye, my murkiest storm cloud was by a rainbow spanned,<br>
|
|
Caught from the glory dwelling in Immanuel’s land.</p>
|
|
<p>But that He built a Heaven of His surpassing love,<br>
|
|
A little new Jerusalem, like to the one above,<br>
|
|
“Lord take me over the water” hath been my loud demand,<br>
|
|
Take me to my love’s own country, unto Immanuel’s land.</p>
|
|
<p>But flowers need nights cool darkness, the moonlight and the dew;<br>
|
|
So Christ, from one who loved it, His shining oft withdrew:<br>
|
|
And then, for cause of absence my troubled soul I scanned<br>
|
|
But glory shadeless shineth in Immanuel’s land.</p>
|
|
<p>The little birds of Anwoth, I used to count them blessed,<br>
|
|
Now, beside happier altars I go to build my nest:<br>
|
|
Over these there broods no silence, no graves around them stand,<br>
|
|
For glory, deathless, dwelleth in Immanuel’s land.</p>
|
|
<p>Fair Anwoth by the Solway, to me thou still art dear,<br>
|
|
Even from the verge of heaven, I drop for thee a tear.<br>
|
|
Oh! If one soul from Anwoth meet me at God’s right hand,<br>
|
|
My heaven will be two heavens, In Immanuel’s land.</p>
|
|
<p>I’ve wrestled on towards Heaven, against storm and wind and tide,<br>
|
|
Now, like a weary traveler that leaneth on his guide,<br>
|
|
Amid the shades of evening, while sinks life’s lingering sand,<br>
|
|
I hail the glory dawning from Immanuel’s land.</p>
|
|
<p>Deep waters crossed life’s pathway, the hedge of thorns was sharp;<br>
|
|
Now, these lie all behind me Oh! for a well tuned harp!<br>
|
|
Oh! To join hallelujah with yon triumphant band,<br>
|
|
Who sing where glory dwelleth in Immanuel’s land.</p>
|
|
<p>With mercy and with judgment my web of time He wove,<br>
|
|
And aye, the dews of sorrow were lustered with His love;<br>
|
|
I’ll bless the hand that guided, I’ll bless the heart that planned<br>
|
|
When throned where glory dwelleth in Immanuel’s land.</p>
|
|
<p>Soon shall the cup of glory wash down earth’s bitterest woes,<br>
|
|
Soon shall the desert briar break into Eden’s rose;<br>
|
|
The curse shall change to blessing the name on earth that’s banned<br>
|
|
Be graven on the white stone in Immanuel’s land.</p>
|
|
<p>O I am my Beloved’s and my Beloved’s mine!<br>
|
|
He brings a poor vile sinner into His “house of wine.”<br>
|
|
I stand upon His merit—I know no other stand,<br>
|
|
Not even where glory dwelleth in Immanuel’s land.</p>
|
|
<p>I shall sleep sound in Jesus, filled with His likeness rise,<br>
|
|
To love and to adore Him, to see Him with these eyes:<br>
|
|
’Tween me and resurrection but Paradise doth stand;<br>
|
|
Then—then for glory dwelling in Immanuel’s land.</p>
|
|
<p>The Bride eyes not her garment, but her dear Bridegroom’s face;<br>
|
|
I will not gaze at glory but on my King of grace.<br>
|
|
Not at the crown He giveth but on His pierced hand;<br>
|
|
The Lamb is all the glory of Immanuel’s land.</p>
|
|
<p>I have borne scorn and hatred, I have borne wrong and shame,<br>
|
|
Earth’s proud ones have reproached me for Christ’s thrice blessed Name:<br>
|
|
Where God His seal set fairest they’ve stamped the foulest brand,<br>
|
|
But judgment shines like noonday in Immanuel’s land.</p>
|
|
<p>They’ve summoned me before them, but there I may not come,<br>
|
|
My Lord says “Come up hither,” My Lord says “Welcome home!”<br>
|
|
My King, at His white throne, my presence doth command<br>
|
|
Where glory—glory dwelleth in Immanuel’s land.</p>
|
|
</div>
|
|
<hr>
|
|
<script src="./js/MainFooter.js" type="text/javascript"></script>
|