Higher than the highest heaven
High! high up above!
Jesus crown’d with glory sitteth
The God of truth and love.
Still though the wilderness we tread,
“A little while” we wait,
Jesus, our loving Lord will come
To ope the prison gate.
Then, while He tarries, may we walk
With thoughts fixed on our home;
Remember His kind gracious word,
“Occupy till I come:”—
That glorious home where we shall soon
Be gathered safely all;
Not one be wanting in that day,
When trumpet-tongued He’ll call.
Who can the wondrous glories trace,
Of that bright promised home?
Where we shall then with Jesus sit
The partners of His throne.
The Comforter still with us there,
The Father’s gracious smile,
And the “Lamb slain” for sinners saved,
Lighting the scene divine.
A. M. H.