Do you hear them coming, thronging,
Leaping o'er the steeps  of light,
Clad  in glorious , shining garments,
Blood-washed garments, pure and bright.

'Tis a glorious Church , without spot or wrinkle,
Adorned as the Bride of the Lamb,
'Tis a glorious Church without spot or wrinkle,
Adorned as the Bride of the Lamb,

Do you hear the stirring anthems,
Filling all the earth and sky?
'Tis a grand, victorious army,
Lift its banner up on high!

News fear the clouds of sorrow,
Never fear the storms of sin,
We shall triumph on the morrow,
Even now our joys begin.

Wave the banner , should His praises,
For our victory is high !
We shall join our congu'ring  Saviour,
We shall reign with Him on high.