1 O Lord, Thou now art seated,
Above the heav'ns, on high,
(The graciouswork completed,
For which Thou cam'st to die);
To Thee our hearts are lifted,
While pilgrims wand'ring here,
For Thou alone art turning,
Inglory shall appear.

2 We know, Lord, Thou has bought us,
And washed us in Thy blood;
We know Thy grace has brought us
As kings and priests to God.
We know that that blest morning,
Long looked for, draweth near,
When we, at Thy returning,
In glory shall appear.

3 O by Thy love constrain us,
And fix our hearts on Thee;
Let nothing henceforth pain us,
But that which paineth Thee;
Our joy, our blest endeavour--
Through suff'ring conflict, shame,--
To serve Thee, gracious Saviour,
And magnify Thy name.