O Jesus, come, descending
For saints that sleep in Thee;
When Thou wilt change the living
To immortality!
Aye, for the Captain’s roll-call,
Its trumpet-shout is come;
His double-hosts to gather
In one assembly, home.
The rapture-morn is breaking
Unclouded, bright and fair;
His waiting ones are ready
To meet Him in the air.
“Himself,” with shout descending,
Fulfills His faithful word,
To bring His saints to glory—
“Forever with the Lord.”
“Caught up,” for His adorning
In beauty to excel;
“Caught up,” with shouts exulting,
In unity to dwell.
“Together” there assembled,
“Together” round Him throng;
With transport, ever singing
The never-ending song.