Today's Hymn: The Sands of Time are Sinking

The Sands of Time Are Sinking

The sands of time are sinking,
The dawn of heaven breaks;
The summer morn I’ve sigh’d for,
The fair sweet morn awakes;
Dark, dark, hath been the midnight,
But day spring is at hand,
And glory, glory dwelleth
In Immanuel’s land.

O Christ, He is the fountain,
The deep, sweet well off 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.

With mercy and with judgment,
My web of time He wove,
And aye the dews of sorrow
Were lustred by His love:
I’ll bless the hand that guided,
I’ll bless the heart that planned,
When throned where glory dwelleth
In Immanuel’s land.

Oh, I am my Belovèd’s,
And my Belov’d is 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.

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 gifteth,
But on His pierced hand:
The Lamb is all the glory
Of Immanuel’s land.

I’ve wrestled on towards heaven,
‘Gainst storm, and wind, and tide;
Now like a weary trav’ller
That leaneth on His guide;
Amid the shades of evening,
While sinks life’s lingering sand,
I hail the glory dawning
In Immanuel’s land.

Samuel Rutherford, Comp. by Anne Ross Cousin

Piano: Bill Ashton

Singing: Hilary Ashton