The dawn awaits with whispers soft and sweet,
A promise gleams through shadows of the night,
When saints shall rise, their Savior soon to meet,
In clouds of glory, bathed in holy light.
Our blessed hope, a trumpet’s clarion call,
Shall pierce the silence, time itself unwind,
The faithful, caught beyond this earthly thrall,
Leave mortal cares and fleeting woes behind.
No eye has seen, no heart can fully know,
The joy prepared, the rapture’s grand embrace,
When Christ returns, His bride in grace to show,
A timeless union, face to radiant face.
So lift your gaze, O church, and stand secure,
Our hope is certain, steadfast, and so pure.