I am sit­ting at the por­tal,
With the sap­phire gates ajar,
Where the eyes of hope im­mor­tal
Catch the gleam­ing world afar.
I’m sit­ting, I’m sit­ting at the por­tal,
I’m sit­ting, I’m sit­ting,
I’m sit­ting at the por­tal.

I am long­ing for that mu­sic,
Stealing thro’ the op­en door,
And my wea­ry heart grows home­sick,
For that land where sin’s no more.
I’m long­ing, I’m long­ing at the por­tal,
I’m long­ing, I’m long­ing,
I’m long­ing at the por­tal.

I am wait­ing for those loved ones,
Who are with the an­gel throng,
To come and bid me wel­come;
But their com­ing seems so long.
I’m wait­ing, I’m wait­ing at the por­tal,
I’m wait­ing, I’m wait­ing,
I’m wait­ing at the por­tal.

I am hop­ing that the Mas­ter,
When my hour is ful­ly come,
Will give my soul a wel­come,
With the words, ’Tis done—well done!
I’m hop­ing, I’m hop­ing at the por­tal,
I’m hop­ing, I’m hop­ing,
I’m hop­ing at the por­tal.