Home

Oh! land of rest, for thee I sigh,When will the moment come,When I shall lay my armor by,And dwell with Christ at home.

No tranquil joys on earth I know,No peaceful sheltering dome;This world's a wilderness of wo,This world is not my home.

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.

I would at once have quit this place,Where foes in fury roam,But ah! my passport was not sealed,I could not yet go home.

When by afflictions sharply tried,I view the gaping tomb;Although I dread death's chilling flood,Yet still I sigh for home.

Weary of wandering round and round,This vale of sin and gloom;I long to leave th'unhallowed ground,And dwell with Christ at home.