I see a Man at God’s right hand,
Upon the throne of God,
And there in seven-fold light I see
The seven-fold sprinkled blood;
I look upon that glorious Man,
On that blood-sprinkled throne;
I know that He sits there for me,
That glory is my own.
The heart of God flows forth in love,
A deep eternal stream;
Through that beloved Son it flows
To me as unto Him.
And looking on His face I know—
Weak, worthless, though I be—
How deep, how measureless, how sweet,
That love of God to me.
How deep, how full, the joy of Him
Who sits upon the throne!
The joy, the gladness of His heart,
In calling me His own.
And He has sent me forth to tell
Of all that joy above,
The glories where in Him I dwell,
The greatness of His love.
Not of the joy His ransomed know
Within that bright abode,
But, all His heart’s desire fulfilled,
The endless joy of God.
The joy with which the righteous One
Can call, with hands outspread,
And welcome to His heart of love,
The lost, the vile, the dead.
“Today with me in Paradise,”
He needs that wondrous span
To show the love that could not rest
Short of His heaven for man.
And when in glory of His own
He shows the spotless Bride,
Aloud the songs of heaven declare
God’s heart is satisfied.