Oh! to be over yonder,
In that land of wonder,
Where the angel voices mingle, and the angel harpers ring.
To be free from pain and sorrow,
And the anxious dread tomorrow,
To rest in light and sunshine in the presence of the King.
Oh! to be over yonder,
My yearning heart grows fonder
Of looking to the east, to see the day-star bring
Some tidings of the waking,
The cloudless, pure day-breaking.
My heart is yearning — yearning for the coming of the King
Oh! to be over yonder.
Alas! I sigh and wonder,
Why clings my poor weak heart to any earthly thing.
Each tie on earth must sever,
And pass away forever;
But there’s no more separation in the presence of the King.
Oh! to be over yonder.
The longing groweth stronger.
When I see the wild doves cleave the air on rapid wing,
I long for their fleet pinions,
To reach my Lord’s dominions,
And rest my weary spirit in the presence of the King.
Oh! to be over yonder,
In that land of wonder,
Where life, and light, and sunshine, beam fair on everything.
Where the day beam is unshaded,
As pure as He who made it —
The land of cloudless sunshine, where Jesus is the King.
Oh! when shall I be dwelling,
Where the angel voices, swelling
In triumphant hallelujahs, make the vaulted heavens ring;
Where the pearly gates are gleaming,
And the morning star is beaming;
Oh! when shall I be yonder in the presence of the King?
Oh! when shall I be yonder?
The longing groweth stronger,
To join in all the praises the redeemed ones do sing,
Within these heavenly places,
Where the angels veil their faces,
In awe and adoration in the presence of the King.
Oh! soon, soon I’ll he yonder,
All lonely as I wander,
Yearning for the welcome summer — longing for the bird’s fleet wing.
The midnight may be dreary,
And the heart be worn and weary,
But there’s no more shadow yonder in the presence of the King.
F. C. A.