I am a stranger here,
No home, no rest, I see;
Not all earth counts most dear
Should wring a sigh from me:
I’m going home!
Jesus, thy home is mine!
And I, thy Father’s child,
With hopes and joys divine;
This world’s a weary wild:
I’m going home!
Home! oh, how soft and sweet,
It thrills upon the heart;
Home! where the children meet,
And never, never part:
I’m going home!
Home! where the Bridegroom takes
The purchase of His love:
Home! where the Father waits
To welcome her above:
I’m going home!
And when the world looks cold,
Which did my Lord revile,
(A lamb within the fold,)
I can look up and smile:
I’m going home!
When its delusive charms
Would snare my pilgrim feet,
I’ll fly to Jesus’ arms,
And yet again repeat,
I’m going home!
And as the desert wide,
The wilderness I see,
Lord Jesus, I confide
My trembling heart to thee:
I’m going home!
While severing every tie
That holds me from the goal,
This, this can satisfy
The craving of the soul:
I’m going home!
Ah, gently, gently lead
Along the painful way;
Bid every word and deed,
And every look to say,
I’m going home!