Tag Archives: Immanuel’s Land

Immanuel’s Land ~ Hymn

Immanuel’s Land

Oh how happy are they
In their white robes arrayed!
Round the throne of dear Jesus they stand;
From all nations, and kindreds,
And peoples, and tongues,
They have gone to Immanuel’s Land.
A chorus of praise to Jesus they raise,
Round the throne in Immanuel’s Land.

From the east and the west,
From the north and the south,
From the isles of the sea—a blest band—
Thro’ the dear Father’s love,
And the dear Savior’s blood,
They are safe in Immanuel’s Land.
A chorus of praise to Jesus they raise,
Round the throne in Immanuel’s Land.

They have gone from temptation,
From sorrow and sin,
And forever in glory they stand;
And their robes they have washed
In the blood of the Lamb,
So are safe in Immanuel’s Land.
A chorus of praise to Jesus they raise,
Round the throne in Immanuel’s Land.

And the beautiful gates of the City of Light,
Will be opened by Jesus’ command,
Unto you and to me, if we give Him our love,
And we’ll enter Immanuel’s Land.
A chorus of praise to Jesus we’ll raise,
Round the throne in Immanuel’s Land.

Words: J. C. Proctor

The Sands of Time Are Sinking ~ Hymn

This Hymn/Poem by Anne R. Cousin, 1857, has 19 stanzas so I’m taking the liberty to pick and choose 7 of them to share here. An alternate tune is Immanuel’s Land, Anthony J. Showalter, 1894.

The Sands of Time are Sinking

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.

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 fullness
His mercy doth expand,
And glory, glory dwelleth
In Immanuel’s land.

The 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.

I’ve wrestled on towards Heaven,
Against storm and wind and tide,
Now, like a weary traveler
That leaneth on his guide,
Amid the shades of evening,
While sinks life’s lingering sand,
I hail the glory dawning
From Immanuel’s land.

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 piercèd hand;
The Lamb is all the glory
Of Immanuel’s land.

I have borne scorn and hatred,
I have borne wrong and shame,
Earth’s proud ones have reproached me
For Christ’s thrice blessed name:
Where God His seal set fairest
They’ve stamped the foulest brand,
But judgment shines like noonday
In Immanuel’s land.

They’ve summoned me before them,
But there I may not come,
My Lord says Come up hither,
My Lord says Welcome home!
My king, at His white throne,
My presence doth command
Where glory—glory dwelleth
In Immanuel’s land.