And art Thou, gracious Master, gone
For us a mansion to prepare?
Shall we behold Thee on Thy throne,
And sit forever with Thee there?
Then let the world approve or blame,
We’ll triumph in Thy glorious name.

Should we, to gain the world’s applause,
Or escape its harmless frown,
Refuse to countenance Thy cause
And make Thy people’s lot our own,
What shame should fill us in that day,
When Thou Thy glory wilt display.

No; let the world cast out our name,
And vile account us if it will;
If to confess our Lord be shame,
Oh, then would we be viler still;
For Thee, O Lord, we all resign,
Content that Thou dost call us Thine.

What transports then will fill our heart,
When thou our worthless names wilt own,
When we shall see Thee as Thou art
And know as we ourselves are known;
And then, from sin and sorrow free,
Find our eternal rest with Thee.