We have a most glorious King;
The heavens, He says, are His throne;
All worlds are His mighty domain,
All kingdoms His scepter shall own.
He dwells with His people below,
He loves in their trials to share;
We dwell with the King for His work,
His burden we willingly bear.

I'm dwelling with Jesus my King;
I've found where He dwells with His own;
I've opened the door of my heart;
He's made it His temple and throne.
Like Mary I sit at His feet,
Like John I recline on His breast;
His presence is fulness of joy,
His bosom is infinite rest.

I dwell with the King for His work,
I've part in His glorious plan
To bring in His kingdom to earth
And tell His salvation to man.
The world has its work and rewards,
I count them but folly and loss;
My business is only His work,
My message is only His cross.

I dwell with the King for His work,
The work, it is His and not mine;
He plans and prepares it for me
And fills me with power divine.
So duty is changed to delight,
And prayer into praise as I sing;
I dwell with my King for His work
And work in the strength of my King.

We'll dwell with the King for His work
And work thru each day of the year.
Perhaps ere it passes, the King
In glory Himself shall appear.
Oh, then in some closer embrace,
Oh, then in some nobler employ
We'll dwell with the King for His work
In endless, ineffable joy!