Millennial Harp

Home

Dolce.
1
Oh! Land of rest, for thee I sigh,
When will the moment come,
When I shall lay my armor by,
And dwell with Christ at home. MILHA 72.1

2.
No tranquil joys on earth I know,
No peaceful sheltering dome;
This world’s a wilderness of wo,
This world is not my home. MILHA 72.2

3.
To Jesus Christ I sought for rest,
He bade me cease to roam;
And fly for succor to his breast,
And he’d conduct me home. MILHA 72.3

4.
I would at once have quit this place,
Where foes in fury roam,
But ah! my passport was not sealed,
I could not yet go home. MILHA 72.4

5.
When by afflictions sharply tried,
I view the gaping tomb;
Although I dread death’s chilling flood,
Yet still I sigh for home. MILHA 72.5

6.
Weary of wandering round and round,
This vale of sin and gloom;
I long to leave th’unhallowed ground,
And dwell with Christ at home. MILHA 72.6