O Homeland! O Home­land!
No lone­ly heart is there,
No rush of blind­ing ang­uish,
No slow­ly drop­ping tear:
Now like an in­fant cry­ing
Its mo­ther’s face to see,
O Mo­ther land, O Home­land!
I stretch my arms to thee!

O Home­land! O Home­land!
No moan­ing of the sick,
No cry­ing of the wea­ry,
No sigh­ing of the weak.
But sound of child­ren’s voic­es,
And shout of saint­ly song,
Are heard thy hap­py high­ways
And gold­en streets along.

O Home­land! O Home­land!
The veil is ve­ry thin
That stretch­es thy dear mea­dows
And this cold world be­tween;
A breath aside may blow it,
A heart­throb burst it through,
And bring in one glad mo­ment
Thy hap­py lands to view.

O Home­land! O Home­land!
One—Chief of all thy band,
One—al­to­ge­ther love­ly,
One—Lord of all the land,
Stands, ea­ger at the gate­way;
The Bride­groom waits His bride;
And rest­ing on His bo­som,
I shall be sa­tis­fied.