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.