I read of a home
In a coun­try so fair,
Away from earth’s sor­rows,
Temptations and cares;
A home in a world
Where bright an­gels, ar­rayed
In robes of great splen­dor,
Are prais­ing their God.

I read how my Sav­ior,
Who now reigns above,
Once shed His own blood,
Out of pi­ty and love;
He shed it to pur­chase
For you and for me
A home in that coun­try,
So pure and so free.

There is a grand ar­my
Now march­ing along,
With ban­ners un­furled,
And with this for their song:
Come friends, and come, neigh­bors,
Come just as you are;
Your homes are all fur­nished,
Awaiting you there.

Praise God! He in­vites us,
And we may all go
And live in that land
That is free from all woe;
Now, if we in meek­ness
His mer­cy im­plore,
He’ll fit and pre­pare us
For that bliss­ful shore.

There is but one way
To that bless­èd abode,
And that is through faith
In the dear Sav­ior’s blood;
And when we by faith
Shall have reached that bright shore,
We’ll meet our loved friends who
Have gone on be­fore.