Henry Clay Work

(1 October 1832 – 8 June 1884 / Middletown, Connecticut)

Joy In Heaven - Poem by Henry Clay Work


Sister spirit, listen!
Methinks I hear a song,
Resounding strangely, sadly,
These peaceful plains along.


'Tis like those lays we sang in earthly days,
When we trod our pilgrimage of pain;


And earthlike are those values
Which chant the solemn strain:


Low in the dust before Thee,
Great King of Kings, we fall!
Least of the host which adore Thee,
Do not despise our call!
From the paths of right,
We have wander'd, we have wander'd,
We have all gone astray;
In thy holy sight,
We are guilty, we are guilty --
We have all gone astray;
Yet hear us! hear us! hear us,
And cast us not away.


Children of Earth! your pray'r is heard in Heaven,
Where Mercy heeds the softest whisper'd moan:
Ransom'd, arise! your sins are all forgiven,
Your Father saith who sitteth on the Throne:
And it is his gracious bidding:
"Bring forth the robes!" --
his heart of love was yearning
To greet repentant sons far away.
Lost once, but found!
We welcome their returning!
There's joy in Heav'n today!
There's joy in Heav'n today!


Sister spirit, yonder,
By that celestial gate,
What throngs of weary pilgrims,
In supplication wait.


They know and yet how fondly those are met,
Who at last from wandering ways draw nigh --


They know not yet how boundless
His love to whom they cry:


No place claim we with the Holy,
Thronging thy blissfull halls;
Grant us a refuge lowly,
Graciously near these walls.
There on bended knees,
Tho' unworthy, most unworthy,
We will worship and pray;
Oh, hear us! hear us! hear us,
And cast us not away.


Children of Earth! no more, in sadness bended,
You supplicate a distant Throne of Grace:
Ransom'd, arise! your days of prayer are ended --
You meet your waiting Father face to face:
For he sendeth heralds saying:
"Unfold the gates! -- with gladness come before us,
And to the royal seats to my guests convey."
Angels! begin the neverending chorus!
There's joy in Heav'n today!
There's joy in Heav'n today!

And I heard, and I heard
as it were the voice of a great multitude,
and the voice of many waters,
and the voice of mighty thunderings,
say ---- - ing;


Glory to God! Glory to God!
Glory to God in the highest!


He gathers his wanderers home
We welcome the last arrived one!
Oh, bles-sed employ!
our infinite joy (our infinte joy)
Is begun!


Now will we sing to Thee
(to Thee) (to Thee) now will we sing,
Our Father, our Redeemer and our King,
New songs (our sweetest songs)
of praise (our purest praise)
Our choicest, noblest, most triumphant lays,
For ev - (-er, ever) -er
more (For ever more)
For ev - (-er, ever) -er more.
Praise ye the Lord
For ev - (-er, ever) -er more.

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Read poems about / on: today, joy, sister, father, children, heaven, god, song, lost, pain, home, angel, child, son, water

Poem Submitted: Friday, January 3, 2003

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