1 Like thousand mountains brightly crowned,
With groves of swaying palms around,
We see a throng of ev'ry tongue
In snow-white mantles gowned.
These are the heroes who did go
Thro' pains and trials here below.
The Lamb of God has with His blood
Their robes made white as snow.
In heaven now His face they see
In never-ending jubilee
Where angels sing Before the King
The sweetest symphony.

2 Their earthly lot was shame and scorn,
But now behold them bright as morn,
In priestly gowns, with golden crowns,
And glory heaven-born.
The world did often them dismay
And tears would flow by night and day,
But God by grace in His embrace
Has wiped all tears away.
And now they find where life is best
Eternal joy with hearts at rest;
The Lamb so dear At fountains clear
In Host as well as Guest.

3 Now, hail to you, bright heroes bold,
The saints just gone, the saints of old,
That unto death ye kept the faith
And passed away consoled!
Ye counted earthly pleasures cheap,
With tears ye sowed and now ye reap
The golden grain and see your gain
With gladness strong and deep.
Lift up your voice and wave your palms,
Yea, fill all heaven with your psalms:
"All honor be Eternally
To God and to the Lamb!"