I saw a woman pure and fair,
All clad in glory bright;
A tiara rich bedecked her hair,
Of jewels clear as light.
Her raiment pure as whitest snow,
No sun could spot display,
Her face in radiant glories glow,
Shone bright as noontide ray.
Her form symmetrical and strong,
Erect with conscious power,
Had oft withstood earth’s crushing wrong
Through persecution’s hour.
Her foes, though legion Satan’s band,
Now lay beneath her feet;
Their prince was bound by angel hand,
For sin had met defeat.
No glory could her light outshine,
Her clothing was the sun.
Her smile as clear as moon sublime,
Her triumph, victory won.
I looked, there stood at her right hand,
A King, a Prince, her Lord.
He came from Heaven from glory land,
To be in her adored.
His name is Jesus, she his Bride,
The two at last are one;
He clasps her hand with loving pride,
God’s well beloved Son.
O Angels praise, ye Seraphs sing,
The church is now complete,
Let Saints their Alleluias ring,
With voices loud and sweet.
Heaven’s day has dawned, the feast is spread,
This is Christ’s wedding day;
A pledge in newest wine and bread,
No more to part for aye.
By Richard Bullard