A tumult of majestic anthems
Swells and fills the air,
Their sweet harmonic chorus rising
To the endless sky.
Trilling harps, angelic singing
Glory, laud, and acclamations
To the King on high!
A momentÖ a pause of expectation
A lonely trumpet sounds,
All faces turn with anticipation,
Ivory gates swing wide.
Whispered voices and breathless gasps
Of joy and delight
Greet the elegantly splendered bride
Adorned in white.
She lifts her modest, mist-veiled face
In wonder and in awe
To vaulted alabaster rafters,
Crowds of eager, reverent faces
Multitudes surround her,
Ten hundred thousand on each side,
Welcoming his bride.
She fingers her snowy garment,
Pure and spotless wool,
Its endless train like a crystal river,
Flowing deep and wide.
The cloud of exultant witnesses
Creates a path before her,
Revealing the gentle, tender compassion
In her belovedís eyes.
In humble shame she bows her head.
Unworthy and unwanted,
Yet he sought her and found her.
Her lowly heart cries.
She didnít deserve such love and mercy.
How could he love her so?
Her wretched filth and sinfulness,
Blasphemy and lies.
He chose her, forgave her, and forgot her past.
Seeing only her soul,
He washed her and cleansed her,
And clothed her in white.
She humbly lifts her thankful face
To him who gave his all,
Past the hundred million guests, she glides
To his glorious light.
With compassion and with endless grace,
He stretches out his arm,
And offers her his nail-scarred hand,
And welcomes home his bride.
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