Behold the mighty, white robed hand

Behold the mighty, whiterobed band
Like thousand snowclad mountains stand
With waving palms
And swelling psalms
Above at God’s right hand.
These are the heroes brave that came
Through tribulation, war and flame
And in the flood
Of Jesus’ blood
Were cleansed from sin and shame.
Now with the ransomed, heavenly Throng
They praise the Lord in every tongue,
And anthems swell
Where God doth dwell
Amidst the angels’ song.

They braved the world’s contempt and might,
But see them now in glory bright
With golden crowns,
In priestly gowns
Before the throne of light.
The world oft weighed them with dismay.
And tears would flow without allay,
But there above
The Saviour’s love
Has wiped their tears away.
Theirs is henceforth the Sabbath rest,
The Paschal banquet of the blest,
Where fountains play
And Christ for aye
Is host as well as guest.

All hail to you, blest heroes, then!
A thousand fold is now your gain
That ye stood fast
Unto the last
And did your goal attain.
Ye spurned all worldly joy and fame,
And harvest now in Jesus’ name
What ye have sown
With tears unknown
Mid angels’ glad acclaim.
Lift up your voice, wave high your palm,
Compass the heavens with your psalm:
All glory be
Eternally
To God and to the Lamb.

Hymns and Hymnwriters of Denmark, 1945