O land of rest, for thee I sigh
1
O land of rest, for thee I sigh;When will the moment comeWhen I shall lay my armor by,And dwell with Christ at home?
2
No tranquil joys on earth I know,No peaceful, sheltering dome;This world 's a wilderness of woe,This world is not my home.
3
To Jesus Christ I sought for rest;He bade me cease to roam,And fly for succor to his breast,And he 'd conduct me home.
4
When by affliction sharply tried,Faith tells of scenes to come,—Those endless joys prepared above,—And then I sigh for home.
5
Weary of wandering round and roundThis vale of sin and gloom,I long to leave the unhallowed ground,And dwell with Christ at home.