Lo! Round the throne, a glorious band,
The saints in countless myriads stand,
Of ev'ry tongue redeemed to God,
Arrayed in garments washed in blood
Through tribulation great they came,
They bore the Cross, despised the shame
From all their labours now they rest
In God's eternal glory blest.

They see their Saviour face-to-face
And sing the triumphs of his grace,
Him day and night they ceaseless praise
To him the loud thanksgiving raise:
Worthy the Lamb tor sinners slain,
Through endless years to live and reign,
Thou hast redeemed us by thy blood,
And made us kings and priests to God.

O may we tread the sacred road
That saints and holy martyrs trod,
Wage to the end the glorious strife
And win, like them, a crown of life,
To Thee, Redeemer, now we cry
That thou wouldst join to them on high
Thy servants, who this grace implore
For ever and for evermore.