1 When the silver cord is broken,
And we bid our friends, ‘farewell,’
And the soul to God, who gave it,
Shall return with Him to dwell;—
When we gaze in silent rapture,
On our many mansions fair,—
We shall know how sweet the promise
Of a home, forever there.
2 When we meet and know each other,
And behold our Saviour’s face,—
When we join the noble army
Of the ransomed, saved by grace;—
O how light will seem the burden,
And the cross, that now we bear,
When our Lord repeats the promise
Of a home, forever there.
3 There’s a grand and mighty anthem,
That we cannot learn to sing,
Till we hear the blessed welcome,
At the feet of Christ, our King;—
Till will all the just made perfect,
Crowns of vict’ry we shall wear;—
Then we’ll praise Him, for the promise
Of a home, forever there.