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.