8,8,8,8 Borne on the clouds the Christ arose To where the light celestial glows, Till, farther than the eye could view, He passed the heavenly portals through. Ended the weary life below, The painful toil, the grief, the woe; The conflict of the cross is past, And sin and death are slain at last. Now list, the heavenly song begun By hosts in garments like the sun; Lift up, lift up your heads, ye gates! The glorious King an entrance waits. Ascended Christ! in mercy yet, Think of the hearts on Olivet, And in Thy wondrous grace restore Thy living presence gone before, And let the Spirit's aid revive Our waiting souls that faithful strive, Till from our Olivet we soar, To dwell with Thee for evermore. |