Behold a Host, Arrayed in White

Verse 1

Behold a host, arrayed in white, like thousand snow-clad mountains bright! With palms they stand; who is this band before the throne of light? These are the saints of glorious fame, who from the great affliction came and in the flood of Jesus' blood are cleansed from guilt and blame. Now gathered in the holy place, their voices they in worship raise; their anthems rise where God resides, mid angels' songs of praise.

Verse 2

Despised and scorned, they sojourned here; but now, how glorious they appear! Those martyrs stand, a priestly band, God's throne forever near. So oft in troubled days gone by, in anguish they would weep and sigh; at home above the God of love fore'er their tears shall dry. Now God has wiped away their tears, They now enjoy the Sabbath rest, the heav'nly banquet of the blest; the Lamb, their Lord, at festal board himself is host and guest.

Verse 3

O blessed saints in bright array, now safely home in endless day, extol the Lord, who with his Word sustained you on the way. The steep and narrow path you trod; you toiled and sowed the Word abroad; rejoice and bring your fruits and sing before the throne of God. Swing high your palms, lift up your song, yes, make it myriad voices strong! Let heaven ring— to Christ the King all praise and thanks belong!