1 When for eternal worlds we steer,
And seas are calm, and skies are clear,
And faith in lively exercise,
And distant hills of Canaan rise.
The soul for joy then claps her wings,
And loud her lovely sonnet sings,
I'm going home, I'm going home,
And loud her lovely sonnet sings,
I'm going home.
2 With cheerful hope, his eyes explore
Each landmark on the distant shore;
The trees of life—the pasture green,
The crystal stream, delightful scene:
Again for joy she plumes her wings,
And loud her lovely sonnet sings,
I'm almost home, I'm almost home,
And loud her lovely sonnet sings,
I'm almost home.
3 The nearer still she draws to land,
More eager all her powers expand;
With steady helm, and free bent sail,
Her anchor drops within the vail:
And now for joy she folds her wings,
And her celestial sonnet sings,
I'm home at last, I'm home at last,
And her celestial sonnet sings,
I'm almost home.
4 She meets with those who are gone before,
On heaven's high and genial shore,
Around the dear Redeemer's feet,
And loud they shout, Our God and King,
And ceaseless hallelujahs sing,
We're safe at last, we're safe at last,
And ceaseless hallelujahs sing
We're safe at last.
The Southern Harmony, 1835