JESUS, LORD of Life Eternal,

Taking those He loved the best,

Stood upon the Mount of Olives,

And His Own the last time blest:

Then, though He had never left it,

Sought again his FATHER's breast.

Knit is now our flesh to Godhead,

Knit in everlasting bands:

Call the world to highest festal:

Floods and oceans, clap your hands:

Angels, raise the song of triumph!

Make response, ye distant lands!

Monarch of monarchs, Sole of Sole, to Thee,

WORD, Glorious in Thy FATHER's Majesty,

And sending Thy co-equal SPIRIT bright

To teach, to comfort, and to guide aright,

Thine own Apostles sang: All glory to Thy might!

Now that Death by death hath found his ending,

Thou dost call to Thee Thy loved Eleven;

And from holy Olivet ascending

On a cloud art carried up to Heaven.

O that wondrous Birth! that wondrous Rising!

That more wondrous mounting to the sky!

So Elias, earthly things despising,

In a fiery chariot went on high.

Parted from Him, still they watched His going:

'Why stand gazing thus?' the Angel said:

'This same Jesus, all His glory showing,

Shall return to judge the quick and dead.'