O for a sight, a pleasing sight, Of our almighty Father's throne! There sits our Saviour, crowned with light, Clothed with a body like our own. Adoring saints around Him stand, And thrones and pow'rs before Him fall; The God shines gracious through the man, And sheds bright glories on them all. O, what amazing joys they feel, While to their golden harps they sing, And echo, from each heav'nly hill, The glorious triumphs of their King!