tr., Emma Frances Bevan, 1899

Who are like the lilies white,

With their crowns all golden bright,

Resting on the waters still,

Underneath the purple hill?

They are like the saints who stand,

Every one with harp in hand,

On the crystal sea that lies

Far beyond the summer skies.

They are clad in white array,

For their sin is washed away;

Golden crowns for every one,

For they reign beyond the sun,

Over all the Heavens afar,

Over sun and moon and star;

They who low before Him fall,

Reign with Jesus over all.