How far from home? I asked, as on
I bent my steps—the watch­man spake:
The long, dark night is al­most gone,
The morn­ing soon will break.
Then weep no more, but speed thy flight,
With Hope’s bright star thy guid­ing ray,
Till thou shalt reach the realms of light,
In ev­er­last­ing day.

I asked the war­ri­or on the field;
This was his soul in­spir­ing song:
With cour­age bold, the sword I’ll wield,
The bat­tle is not long.
Then weep no more, but well en­dure
The con­flict, till thy work is done;
For this we know, the prize is sure,
When vic­to­ry is won.

I asked again; earth, sea and sun
Seemed, with one voice, to make re­ply:
Time’s wast­ing sands are near­ly run,
Eternity is nigh.
Then weep no more—with warn­ing tones,
Portentous sights are thick­en­ing round,
The whole cre­ation, wait­ing, groans,
To hear the trum­pet sound.

Not far from home! O bless­èd thought!
The tra­vel­er’s lone­ly heart to cheer;
Which oft a heal­ing balm has brought,
And dried the mourn­er’s tear.
Then weep no more, since we shall meet
Where weary foot­steps ne­ver roam—
Our tri­als past, our joys com­plete,
Safe in our Fa­ther’s home.