I’m but a stranger here,
Heav’n is my home;
Earth is a desert drear,
Heav’n is my home.
Danger and sorrow stand
Round me on every hand;
Heav’n is my fatherland,
Heav’n is my home.

What though the tempest rage,
Heav’n is my home;
Short is my pilgrimage,
Heav’n is my home;
Time’s cold and wild wintry blast
Soon shall be over past;
I shall reach home at last,
Heav’n is my home.

There at my Savior’s side
Heav’n is my home;
I shall be glorified,
Heav’n is my home.
There are the good and blest,
Those I loved most and best;
There, too, I soon shall rest,
Heav’n is my home.

Therefore I murmur not,
Heav’n is my home;
Whate’er my earthly lot,
Heav’n is my home;
And I shall surely stand
There at my Lord’s right hand.
Heav’n is my fatherland,
Heav’n is my home.