Hark the song of holy rap­ture,
Hear it break from yon­der strand
Where our friends for us are wait­ing,
In the gold­en sum­mer land;
They have reached the port of glo­ry,
O’er the Jor­dan they have passed,
And with mill­ions they are shout­ing,
Home at last, home at last:
And with mill­ions they are shout­ing,
Home at last, home at last;

O, the long and sweet re­un­ion,
Where the bells of time shall cease;
O, the greet­ing, end­less greet­ing,
On the ver­nal heights of peace;
Where the hoping and des­pond­ing
Of the wea­ry heart are past,
And we en­ter life eter­nal,
Home at last, home at last:
And we en­ter life eter­nal,
Home at last, home at last.

Look be­yond, the skies are clear­ing;
See, the mist dis­solves away;
Soon our eyes will catch the dawn­ing
Of a bright, ce­les­ti­al day;
Soon the sha­dows will be lift­ed
That around us now are cast,
And re­joic­ing we shall ga­ther
Home at last, home at last:
And re­joic­ing we shall ga­ther
Home at last, home at last.