And let their tones responsive echoes call,—
There’s more to cheer us than our senses bring,
And sweeter anthems than from mortals fall.
II
Saints in the land where sin is all unknown,
Where care nor sorrow can the light subdue,
Dwell in the glory of the heavenly throne,
And voice new praise, for wonders ever new.
III
Wake to their praise, and let us blend with theirs