“NOT of this world," we long for heaven,
Through hostile scenes as here we roam;
Way worn and footsore, tempest-driven,
Thy loved ones cry, "Lord, take us home!”
Home from this wilderness of sorrow,
Home from this Christless waste below;
Home to that glad eternal morrow,
Home to Thyself we fain would go.
Where Thou, the radiant Sun and Center,
Shalt reign in glory ever, there
We would in full fruition enter,
Lord Jesus, Thine own joy to share.
Then shall our days be no more dreary,
Then shall no cloud Thy beauty hide;
Then with Thyself these hearts, unweary,
Shall be forever satisfied.
J. W. MCC.