Who the Prince?--and what the chariot

O'er the starry pathways led?

Armies follow on white horses,

Many crowns are on His head:

King of glory!

On His robe the name is read.

His look pierceth through creation,

Flames within His eyes abide:

Who is this--but Zion's Bridegroom?

Gently smiles He on His bride:

His the garment

With His life-blood deeply dyed.

Who is this fair Bride approaching

Through the gates of death serene?

Lo, the beauteous light of dawning

Blushing leaves the radiant scene:

She is Zion,

In fine linen white and dean.

Through the shining realms of starlight

Let the angels clear the way;

Let all Nature wear its glory,

And each flower its sweet array:

Sing the marriage

Of the Lamb in many a lay.