Samuel Rutherford: The Sands of Time are Sinking

One of the best hymns we sing is The Sands of Time are Sinking. I chose it for yesterday’s morning service and again in the evening at Capernwray. I once remarked to a fellow hymn-lover that I wished there were more verses; he took delight in telling me there were. I’ve had a search, and here they are.

The words are a compilation from Samuel Rutherford’s letters. This great evangelical preacher pastored the church at Anworth in southern Scotland. He considered these the best days of his life, as his words make plain. Soon, though, he was banished to Aberdeen (his “sea-beat prison” in verse 6) and forbidden from preaching. In 1638 he was released and ministered again until 1660 when Cromwell’s passing, and the Commonwealth’s termination, ended that period of puritan liberty. In 1661, he was summoned to appear before Parliament (“earth’s proud ones”, of verse 18). In the next verse, he explains why he would not answer the summons- he has received a more important one from heaven. Of course, the man was dying, or in Christian parlance, being ‘called home’.

 

1. 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.

 

2. Oh! well it is forever,

Oh! well forevermore

My nest hung in no forest

Of all this death-doomed shore!

Yea, let the vain world vanish,

As from the ship the stand,

While glory—glory dwelleth

In Immanuel’s land.

 

3. There the Red Rose of Sharon

Unfolds its heart-most bloom.

And fills the air of Heaven

With ravishing perfume;

Oh, to behold its blossom,

While by its fragrance fann’d

Where glory—glory dwelleth

In Immanuel’s land.

 

4. 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.

 

5. Oh! 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.

 

6. E’en Anwoth was not heaven—

E’en preaching was not Christ;

And in my sea-beat prison

My Lord and I held tryst:

And aye my murkiest storm-cloud

Was by a rainbow spann’d,

Caught from the glory dwelling

In Immanuel’s land.

 

7. But that He built a heaven

Of His surpassing love,

A little New Jerus’lem,

Like to the one above,—

“Lord, take me o’er the water,”

Had been my loud demand,

“Take me to love’s own country,

Unto Immanuel’s land.”

 

8. But flowers need night’s cool darkness,

The moonlight and the dew;

So Christ, from one who loved it,

His shining oft withdrew;

And then, for cause of absence,

My troubled soul I scann’d—

But glory, shadeless, shineth

In Immanuel’s land.

 

9. The little birds of Anwoth

I used to count them blest,—

Now, beside happier altars

I go to built my nest:

O’er these there broods no silence,

No graves around them stand,

For glory, deathless, dwelleth

In Immanuel’s land.

 

10. Fair Anwoth by the Solway,

To me thou still art dear!

E’en from the verge of Heaven

I drop for thee a tear.

Oh! if one soul from Anwoth

Meet me at God’s right hand,

My Heaven will be two Heavens,

In Immanuel’s land!

 

11. I’ve wrestled on towards Heaven,

‘Ganst storm, and wind, and tide;—

Now, like a weary traveler,

That leaneth on his guide,

Amid the shades of evening,

While sinks life’s ling’ring sand,

I hail the glory dawning

From Immanuel’s land.

 

12. Deep waters cross’d life’s pathway,

The hedge of thorns was sharp;

Now these lie all behind me,—

Oh, for a well-tuned harp!

Oh, to join Hallelujah

With yon triumphant band,

Who sing where glory dwelleth

In Immanuel’s land!

 

13. With mercy and with judgment

My web of time He wove,

And aye the dews of sorrow

Were lustered with His love!

I’ll bless the hand that guided,

I’ll bless the heart that plann’d,

When throned where glory dwelleth

In Immanuel’s land.

 

14. Soon shall the cup of glory

Wash down earth’s bitterest woes,

Soon shall the desert brier

Break into Eden’s rose:

The curse shall change to blessing–

The name on earth that’s bann’d,

Be graven on the white stone

In Immanuel’s land.

 

15. Oh! I am my Beloved’s,

And my Beloved’s mine!

He brings a poor vile sinner

Into His “house of wine:”

I stand upon His merit,

I know no other stand,

Not e’en where glory dwelleth

In Immanuel’s land.

 

16. I shall sleep sound in Jesus,

Fill’d with His likeness rise,

To live and to adore Him,

To see Him with these eyes:

‘Tween me and resurrection

But Paradise doth stand;

Then—then for glory dwelling

In Immanuel’s land!

 

17. 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 pierced hand:

The Lamb is all the glory

Of Immanuel’s land.

 

18. I have borne scorn and hatred,

I have borne wrong and shame,

Earth’s proud ones have reproach’d me,

For Christ’s thrice blessed name:

Where God His seal set fairest

They’ve stamp’d their foulest brand;

But judgment shines like noonday

In Immanuel’s land.

 

19. 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 now at His white throne,

My presence doth command,

Where glory—glory dwelleth

In Immanuel’s land.

 

Words based on the Letters of Samuel Rutherford (1600-1661), from Immanuel’s Land and Other Pieces by Anne Ross Cousin (1857). Music arranged from Chrétien Urhan (1834) by Edward F. Rimbault (1867).

Image by Eduin Escobar from Pixabay