1. Give me the wings of faith to rise
Within the veil, and see
The saints above, how great their joys,
How bright their glories be.
2. Once they were mourning here below
And wet their cheeks with tears;
They wrestled hard, as we do now,
With sins, and doubts and fears.
3. I ask them whence their vic'try came;
They, with united breath,
Ascribe their conquest to the Lamb,
Their triumph to his death.
4. Our glorious Leader claims our praise
For his own pattern giv'n,
While the long cloud of witnesses
Show the same path to Heav'n.