249 With trembling awe the chosen three

1 With trembling awe the chosen three The holy mount ascended, When, wrapped in blissful ecstasy, They saw the vision splendid: Their Lord arrayed in living light, And on His left hand and His right, By glorious saints attended. 2 O vision bright, too bright to tell, The joys of heaven unveiling! How precious on those hearts it fell, When earthliest hopes were failing, When, saints no more on either side, Between the thieves the Savior died, 'Mid hate, and scorn, and railing. 3 Grant us, dear Lord, some vision Of future triumph telling, Brief gilding with hope our night of grief, Our clouds of fear dispelling. If the dim foretaste was so bright, O what shall be the dazzling light Of Thine eternal dwelling!