Thou art home at last, each waymark past,
Thou hast sped to the goal before me;
And oh, my tears fall thick and fast,
Like the hopes that had blossomed o’er thee.
My lips refuse to say, Farewell,
For our life-link naught can sever;
Thou’rt early gone with Christ to dwell,
Where we both shall be forever.
Thou wilt weep no more where storms are o’er,
Where the glory is gleaming yonder,
Oh the parting wrench my heart that tore
It hath made the love-grasp fonder!
‘Twas vain, ‘twas vain to bid thee stay,
For thy tent’s frail cords were riven;
I watched thee wing thy joyful way
Through the pearly gates of heaven.
Thou hast entered now, thy victor brow,
Mid the amaranth crowns is shining;
Love made thee strong, and faith can bow
E’en in nature’s sore repining.
No more, beloved, would I be sad,
Though the grief-clouds linger o’er me;
Our life is one, and thou art glad
In the Golden Land before me!