Called to the Feast

Called to the feast by the King are we, Sitting, perhaps, where His people be; How will it fare, then, with thee and me When the King comes in?

Crowns on the head where the thorns have been, Glorified He who once died for men; Splendid the vision before us then, When the King comes in.

Like lightning's flash will that instant show Things hidden long from both friend and foe— Just what we are every one will know, When the King comes in.

Joyful His eye on each one shall rest Who is in white wedding garments dressed; Ah! well for us if we stand the test, When the King comes in.

Endless the sad separation then, Bitter the cry of deluded men, Awful that moment of anguish when Christ the King comes in.

Lord, grant us all, we implore Thee, grace, So to await Thee, each in his place, That we may fear not to see Thy face, When Thou comest in.