Oh tell them we sigh for the better land,
For earth has grown sad and chill;
And we long rejoicing with them to stand
On the heights of Zion’s hill.
Oh tell them we long to share their rest,
Afar from all earthly strife;
We long to lean on our Saviour’s breast,
And roam by the tree of life.
Oh tell them our fondest hopes are there,
For our earthly hopes are o’er;
And we sigh for the land all bright and fair—
We sigh for the deathless shore.
Then fly away to the better land,
Thou bird of the snowy wing!
Oh fly away to the blood-washed band,
And hear the songs they sing.
And then return with the speed of love,
When the night grows dark and chill,
And tell us, oh, tell us, thou white-winged dove!
Do they love, do they love us still?
We know there is One, in that blissful home,
Who loves and remembers us yet;
Though weary and sorrowful now we roam,
We know that he will not forget.
We’ll trust him then, the great and the strong;
By his own almighty hand
He’ll bring us soon with the blood-washed throng
To the bright, the better land.
What though the angry waves are high,
And darkness reigns around?
Let hope be bright in every eye,
Our ship is homeward bound!
What though nor moon nor stars appear
Amid the gloom profound,
Why should we yield a place to fear?
Our ship is homeward bound!
What though the lightnings glare above,
And deaf’ning thunders roar,
When with the eye of faith and love
We view the distant shore?
We know that friends are waiting there
We loved in life before;
And angel forms all bright and fair
Line the eternal shore.
We’ve often longed with them to bow
At our Redeemer’s feet,—
He loved us first, we love Him now,
Then let the billows beat!
And let them bear our hopes away,
Although they once were sweet,
We catch a glimpse of coming day—
Oh, let the billows beat!
The coward peers with trembling form
Into the gloom profound,
But we can smile to view the storm,
Our ship is homeward bound!
And though for us on life’s dark wave
No anchorage be found,—
Oh, let our hearts be true and brave,
Our ship is homeward bound!
Shades of night have gathered round,
’Tis the hour of gloom profound;
’Tis the hour when many sleep,
’Tis the hour when many weep,
Over pleasures buried deep.
Faces smiling through the day,
Lips that told a spirit gay,
Eyes that beamed as with delight,
Now concealed from human sight,
Put aside the mask to-night.
