“The Sands of Time are Sinking”


 
A Hymn by Mrs Ann Ross Cousins

(1)

The sands of time are sinking,
   The dawn of heaven breaks;
The summer morn I've sighed for,
   The fair, sweet morn awakes;
Dark, dark hath been the midnight,
   But dayspring is at hand,
And glory, glory dwelleth
   In Immanuel's land.

(2)

he King there in His beauty,
   Without a veil is seen;
It were a well-spent journey,
   Though seven deaths lay between;
The Lamb with His fair army
   Doth on Mount Zion stand,
And glory, glory dwelleth
   In Immanuel's land.

(3)

O Christ, He is the fountain,
   The deep sweet well of love!
The streams on earth I've tasted,
   More deep I'll drink above;
there, to an ocean fulness,
   His mercy doth expand,
And glory, glory dwelleth
   In Immanuel's land.

(4)

With mercy and with judgment
   My web of time He wove,
And aye the dews of sorrow
   Were lustered with His love;
I'll bless the hand that guided,
   I'll bless the heart that planned,
When throned where glory dwelleth
   In Immanuel's land.

(5)

Oh, I am my Beloved's,
   And my Beloved's mine;
He brings a poor vile sinner
   Into His house of wine!
I stand upon His merit,
   I know no other stand,
Not e'en where glory dwelleth
   In Immanuel's land.

(6)

The Bride eyes not her garment,
   But her dear Bridegroom's face;
I will not gaze at glory,
   But on my King of grace:
Not at the crown He giveth,
   But on His pierced hand;
The Lamb is all the glory
   Of Immanuel's land.