O, ring the bells of heaven high!
The marriage feast has come;
The glorious jubilee is nigh,
The saints are going home.
The mighty pennons of the skies
Are waving in the air,
And o'er the gates of Zion rise
Her battlements so fair.
The King is mustering His guests;
I see His glorious band;
I see the shining habitants
Of far-off Beulah-land.
They come, they come on wings of light
I hear the bugle blast;
I know the reign of sin's dark night
Forevermore is past.

From cloud to cloud, from dome to dome,
The myriad army cries;
''The marriage of the lamb has come----
The marriage of the skies.''
Come, bring the linen white and clean,
The wedding guests prepare,
Garments which gleam like silvery sheen,----
The bridal robes so fair.

The Bridegroom, too, methinks I see,
While myriad voices ring;
''Chiefest among ten thousand He------
Immanuel, my King!''
''Thrice blest are they who hear the call,''
A mighty angel cries,
''Haste to the supper of the Lamb----
The marriage of the skies.''
------Mrs. L. D. Avery-Stuttle, in Signs of the Times