With Trembling Awe The Chosen Three


With trembling awe the chosen three
The holy mount ascended,
Where, wrapped in blissful ecstacy,
They saw the vision splendid–
Their Lord arrayed in living light,
And on His left hand and His right,
By glorious saints attended.

O vision bright, too bright to tell,
The joys of heav’n unveiling!
How precious on those hearts it fell,
When earthly hopes were failing;
When, saints no more on either side,
Between the thieves the Savior died
‘Mid hate, and scorn, and railing!

Grant us, dear Lord, some vision brief
Of future triumph telling,
Gilding with hope our night of grief,
Our clouds of fear dispelling.
If the dim foretaste was so bright,
O what shall be the dazzling light
Of Thine eternal dwelling!