Above the thorns, that one time crowned Thy brow,
The eye of faith could ever see
The hand of Him who holds o'er that bowed head
The crown of victory soon to be.
Yea, many crowns shall crown Thy brow,
And we by faith behold it now.

Soon heaven and earth shall own Thee Lord of all,
And every creature bow the knee;
Yea, those who scorned, and pierced, and crucified
The Lord of glory shamefully,
He'll force to bend the unwilling knee,
Confess, and own His majesty.

Soon we shall see Thee, Lord, with unveiled eyes,
And read the story of Thy grace,
And know Thee as we never yet have known,
Nor ever could, but face to face;
Nor yet the cost of all Thy love to us,
We cannot measure, but by Calvary's cross.

Eternity! Our finite minds are lost
Whene'er we seek its depths to sound,
For all things here we know must have an end,
Infinity the finite cannot bound:
But when we leave this cumbrous clay,
We'll understand eternal day.

And all that we beheld as in a glass,
Shall in full glory meet our eyes,
And all He is, and was, and e'er will be,
A never-ceasing glad surprise:
Infinity will then no mystery be,
And all His joy be ours eternally.

We wait, with bands cut loose, Thy coming, Lord;
We're watching for the Morning Star;
We're listening for the shout that will awake
The dead in Christ, both near and far;
And we who live will join the company,
And so forever, Lord, we'll be with Thee.

Helen McDowell