Whence came the armies of the sky,
John saw in vision bright?
Whence came their crowns, their robes, their palms,
Too pure for mortal sight?
Were these tried soldiers of the cross
Victorious in the fight?
Were these the trophies they had won,
Reserved in worlds of light?
Once they were mourners here below,
And poured out cries and tears;
They wrestled hard, as we do now,
With sins, and doubts, and fears.
They saw the star of Bethlehem
Arise in splendor bright;
They followed long its guiding ray,
Till beamed a clearer light.
From desert waste, and cities full,
From dungeons dark, they've come,
And now they claim their mansion fair,
They've found their long-sought home.