“In the midst” upon the tree,
Dying thieves on either side;
What a sight for faith to see!
Thou, the sinless, crucified.
O how fearful! one who hung
Railed on Thee with venomed tongue:
Blessed he who called Thee “Lord,”
Finding in Thee faith’s reward.
“In the midst” on that blest eve
Of Thy resurrection day:
When, in fear, Thine own did grieve,
Thou didst drive their grief away.
We, too, seeing Thee are glad;
In Thy presence, who is sad?
Sweetly Thou dost utter “Peace,”
Givest joy, yea, joy’s increase.
“In the midst” saidst Thou, O Lord,
Where are gathered two or three
In My name with one accord,
There am I, for faith to see.
Gathered thus we oft have been,
Thee, O Lord, have known and seen;
Hearkened to Thy faithful word—
Thee have worshiped—Thee adored.
“In the midst,” Lord, of the throne
Of the high and holy One:
Thou, the Lamb, wast seen alone,
Who redemption’s work hadst done.
Thee the ransomed hosts adored,
To Thy sweet name incense poured;
Harps resounding to the strain!
“Thou art worthy—who wast slain!”
“In the midst,” Lord, of Thine own,
Thou Thy Father’s name wilt praise;
While we bow before the throne,
And our blissful anthems raise.
What delight, O Lord, to Thee,
When Thy brethren Thou shalt see
In Thy glory brightly shine;
Answering to that heart of Thine!