Welches Wort fasst diese Wonne, Wann ich mit der heilgen Schaar, In dem Stral der reinen Sonne, Leucht auch, wie die Sterne, klar! Amen, Lob sei Dir bereit, Dank und Preis in Ewigkeit. Theodor Schenk. Died 1727. Saints in Glory. He that overcometh shall inherit all things, and I will be His God, and he shall be My son. _Rev._ xxi. 7. 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 heavenly King. Who are these, who palms are clasping, Like a conqueror, in their hand, When he sees his foeman gasping, Stretched before him in the sand? What the combat, who the foes, Whence this joyful triumph rose? Who are these, of dazzling brightness, These in God’s own truth arrayed, Clad in robes of purest whiteness, Robes whose lustre 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 Saviour’s honour 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. Branches of that Stock that saved them, Where both grace and health unite, In the Lamb’s pure Blood they laved them, Washed their robes and made them white: Now adorned with holiness, Shine they in their festal dress. 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. As the hart at noon-tide panteth For the brooks of water clear, For the life-spring Jesus granteth These have groaned, with frequent tear: Now their thirst is satisfied, For they are by Jesus’ side. Lo! the Lamb Himself now feeds them On Mount Sion’s pastures fair; From His central Throne He leads them By the living fountains there: Lamb and Shepherd! Good Supreme! Free He gives the cooling stream. Heavenward now my hands extending, Jesus, Lord, to Thee I pray, Low before Thy footstool bending— Since on earth I still must stay, In Thy Church still wage my war, Drive, good Lord, my foes afar. In the strife the conquest send me Over hell, the world, and sin; With Thy grace, O Lord, defend me, When temptation’s storms begin: All my dangers bear me through, Lord, my Rock, my Saviour true!