The Beautiful Home

1WE are going home–we've had visions bright
Of that holy land–that world of light,
Where the lone, dark night of Time is past,
And the morn of eternity come at last.
There the weary saints no more shall roam,
But dwell in a sunny, peaceful home,
Where the brow with celestial gems is crowned,
And waves of bliss are dashing around.
O, that beautiful home, &c.

2We are going home–we soon shall be
Where the skies are clear, and the soil is free;
Where the victor's song floats o'er the plains,
And the seraph's anthem blends with its strains;
Where the sun rolls down a brilliant flood
Of beams on a world that's fair and good;
And stars that dimm'd at nature's doom,
Will sparkle and dance o'er the new earth's bloom.
O, that beautiful home, &c.

3Where the tears and sighs which here are given,
Are exchanged for the gladsome songs of heaven;
And the beauteous forms that sing and shine,
Are guarded well by a hand divine.
Pure love's banner and friendship's wand
Are waving above that princely band;
And the glory of God, like a molten sea,
Bathes the immortal company.
O, that beautiful home, &c.

4'Mid the ransom'd throng–'mid the sea of bliss,
'Mid the holy City's gorgeousness;
'Mid the verdant plains, 'mid the angels' cheer,
'Mid the flowers that never of winter hear;
Where the conqueror's song, as it sounds afar,
Is wafted on the ambrosial air;
'Mid the endless years we then shall prove
The matchless depth of a Saviour's love.
O, that beautiful home, &c.