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{title:Immanuels Land (480)}

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Title: Immanuels Land (480)

Immanuels Land (480)

    D        A7          Bm        G              A
The sands of time are sinking, the dawn of heaven breaks;

A7  D      A7        D      G       D           A
The summer morn I’ve sighed for the fair, sweet morn
 D
awakes:
      G         Gm       D         G            Gm
Dark, dark hath been the midnight, but dayspring is at
D
hand,
           G     D    A7  D        A7    D
And glory, glory dwelleth in Immanuel’s land.

O Christ, He is the fountain, the deep, sweet well of love!

The streams of earth I’ve tasted more deep I’ll drink above:

There to an ocean fullness His mercy doth expand,

And glory, glory dwelleth in Immanuel’s land.

O I am my Beloved’s and my Beloved’s mine!

He brings a poor vile sinner into His “house of wine.”

I stand upon His merit-I know no other stand,

Not even where glory dwelleth in Immanuel’s land.

The Bride eyes not her garment, but her dear Bridegroom’s face;

I will not gaze at glory but on my King of grace.

Not at the crown He giveth but on His pierced hand;

The Lamb is all the glory of Immanuel’s land.