Around the throne of God in Heaven,
Thousands of children stand,
Children whose sins are all forgiven,
A holy, happy band,

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Singing, “Glory, glory,
Glory be to God on high.”

In flowing robes of spotless white
See everyone arrayed;
Dwelling in everlasting light
And joys that never fade,

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What brought them to the world above,
That Heaven so bright and fair,
Where all is peace, and joy, and love;
How came those children there,

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Because the Savior shed His blood
To wash away their sin;
Bathed in that pure and precious flood,
Behold them white and clean,

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On earth they sought the Savior’s grace,
On earth they loved His Name;
So now they see His blessèd face,
And stand before the Lamb,

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How bright these glorious spirits shine!
Whence all their white array?
How came they to the blissful seats
Of everlasting day?

Lo! these are they from sufferings great
Who came to realms of light;
And in the blood of Christ have washed
Those robes which shine so bright.

Now with triumphal palms they stand
Before the throne on high,
And serve the God they love amidst
The glories of the sky.

His presence fills each heart with joy,
Tunes every mouth to sing:
By day, by night, the sacred courts
With glad hosannas ring.

Hunger and thirst are felt no more,
Nor suns with scorching ray;
God is their Sun, whose cheering beams
Diffuse eternal day.

The Lamb, Which dwells amidst the throne
Shall over them still preside,
Feed them with nourishment divine,
And all their footsteps guide.

Midst pastures green He’ll lead His flock
Where living streams appear;
And God the Lord from every eye
Shall wipe off every tear.

To Father, Son and Holy Ghost,
The God Whom we adore,
Be glory, as it was, is now,
And shall be evermore.

Who, who are these beside the chilly wave,
Just on the borders of the silent grave,
Shouting Jesu’s power to save,
“Washed in the blood of the Lamb”?

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“Sweeping through the gates” of the new Jerusalem,
“Washed in the blood of the Lamb,”
“Sweeping through the gates” of the new Jerusalem,
“Washed in the blood of the Lamb.”

These, these are they who, in their youthful days,
Found Jesus early, and in wisdom’s ways
Proved the fullness of His grace,
“Washed in the blood of the Lamb.”

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These, these are they who, in affliction’s woes,
Ever have found in Jesus calm repose,
Such as from a pure heart flows,
“Washed in the blood of the Lamb.”

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These, these are they who, in the conflict dire,
Boldly have stood amid the hottest fire;
Jesus now says, “come up higher,”
“Washed in the blood of the Lamb.”

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Safe, safe upon the ever shining shore,
Sin, pain, and death, and sorrow are all o’er;
Happy now and evermore,
“Washed in the blood of the Lamb.”

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What happy men, or angels, these,
That all their robes are spotless white?
Whence did this glorious troop arrive
At the pure realms of heav’nly light?

From torturing racks and burning fires,
And seas of their own blood they came;
But nobler blood has washed their robes,
Flowing from Christ the dying Lamb.

Now they approach th’Almighty throne,
With loud hosannas night and day;
Sweet anthems to the great Three-One,
Measure their blest eternity.

No more shall hunger pain their souls;
He bids their paring thirst begone,
And spreads the shadow of His wings
To screen them from the parching sun.

The Lamb that fills the middle throne
Shall shed around His milder beams;
There shall they feast on His rich love,
And drink full joys from living streams.

Thus shall their mighty bliss renew
Through the vast round of endless years;
And the soft hand of sov’reign grace
Heals all their wounds and wipes their tears.

What this host? This mighty army,
Conquering every prince of men?
Led by what high King, what champion?
Who, once dead, now lives again?

This, the Church, the Bride of Jesus,
Armor-clad by God’s own hand:
Shield of Faith and Sword of Spirit—
Shod by Gospel, firm to stand!

With the awesome Truth of Heaven,
Christ has girded her around,
So arrayed for every battle,
She shall pull all empires down.

Gleaming in the morning sunlight
See salvation’s helmet shine!
Trusting to that sure protection,
On she fights, renewed in mind.

O’er that heart once bound to evil,
Lies the mail of righteousness,
No satanic accusation
Can defeat such glorious dress!

Terrible in strength and valor,
Jesus leads His host to war,
His the vict’ry, His the conquest!
He has broken down Hell’s door!

Who are these arrayed in white,
Brighter than the noon-day sun?
Foremost of the sons of light;
Nearest the eternal throne?
These are they that bore the cross,
Nobly for their Master stood;
Sufferers in His righteous cause,
Followers of the dying God.

Out of great distress they came,
Washed their robes by faith below,
In the blood of yonder Lamb,
Blood that washes white as snow:
Therefore are they next the throne,
Serve their Maker day and night:
God resides among His own,
God doth in His saints delight.

More than conquerors at last,
Here they find their trials o’er;
They have all their sufferings past,
Hunger now and thirst no more:
No excessive heat they feel
From the sun’s directer ray;
In a milder clime they dwell,
Region of eternal day.

He that on the throne doth reign,
Them the Lamb shall always feed,
With the tree of life sustain,
To the living fountains lead;
He shall all their sorrows chase,
All their wants at once remove,
Wipe the tears from every face,
Fill up every soul with love.

Who are these like stars appearing,
These before God’s throne who stand?
Each a golden crown is wearing;
Who are all this glorious band?
Alleluia! Hark, they sing,
Praising loud their heav’nly King.

Who are these of dazzling brightness,
These in God’s own truth arrayed,
Clad in robes of purest whiteness,
Robes whose luster ne’er shall fade,
Ne’er be touched by time’s rude hand?
Whence come all this glorious band?

These are they who have contended
For their Savior’s honor long,
Wrestling on till life was ended,
Following not the sinful throng;
These who well the fight sustained,
Triumph through the Lamb have gained.

These are they whose hearts were riven,
Sore with woe and anguish tried,
Who in prayer full oft have striven
With the God they glorified;
Now, their painful conflict o’er,
God has bid them weep no more.

These, like priests, have watched and waited,
Offering up to Christ their will;
Soul and body consecrated,
Day and night to serve Him still:
Now in God’s most holy place
Blest they stand before His face.