O LORD, Thy glory we behold,
Though not with mortal eyes;
That glory, on the Father’s throne,
No human sight descries.
‘Tis thence — now Christ is gone on high,
Redemption’s work complete —
The Spirit brings His glory nigh,
To those who for Him wait.
And we our great Forerunner see,
In His own glory there;
Yet not ashamed, with such as we,
As Firstborn, all to share.
The Father’s love, the source of all,
Sweeter than all it gives,
Shines on us now without recall,
And lasts while Jesus lives.
The new creation’s stainless joy
Gleams through the present gloom;
That world of bliss without alloy,
The saints’ eternal home.
J. N. Darby