1 

The queen in gold of Ophir

   At Thy right hand doth stand;

King's daughters are the women

   Who fill Thy honored band.

The church in all her glory

   Shall match her glorious King,

And all the saints, the women,

   Thy likeness there shall bring.

 2 

O daughter, now consider,

   E'en now incline thine ear:

Remember not thy people

   And all thine own things here.

Thy beauty then shall blossom —

   'Twill be the King's desire;

For He thy worthy Lord is,

   Thy worship to inspire.

 3 

The daughter's glorious garments

   Are made of inwrought gold —

Within the inner palace,

   How wondrous to behold!

The glory of God's nature

   Is given her to wear,

That all His holy being

   She may in life declare.

 4 

In clothing too embroidered

   She'll to the King be led,

In that fine linen garment

   To be exhibited.

'Tis by the Spirit's stitching

   That Christ in us is wrought,

And with this glorious garment

   We'll to the King be brought.

 5 

What gladness and rejoicing

   When we the King shall see!

We'll shout His worthy praises

   Through all eternity.

And though the King we worship

   Or glory in the Queen,

In all this blest enjoyment

   The glory goes to Him.