Going Home
I'm going home; the tidings come,
1
I'm going home; the tidings come,And sweetly fall upon my ear;A little longer here I'll roam,And then my Saviour will appear.
Chorus.
Hail! happy day, hail! holy rest,Hail! angels, saints, and Saviour too;I'm going home, ye sighs and tears,I bid you now a long adieu.
2
I'm going home; this wildernessGrows brighter when my mind recallsThe glorious mansions ready made,Within fair Zion's jasper walls.
3
I'm going home, and cold, pale deathHas lost its terrors, since I knowMy long-lost friends shall meet me there,Where life's fair tree shall ever grow.
4
I'm going home, I'm going home,My heart leaps high while thus I sing;O happy day! it soon will come,And I shall see our glorious King.