When the sheep have all been ga­thered,
To the Shep­herd’s fold on high,
And are rest­ing, sweet­ly rest­ing
’Neath a calm, un­chang­ing sky;
When we look with cloud­less vi­sion
Stretching far and far away,
O’er that land be­yond the sun­set,
Where the morn­ing breez­es play.

Refrain

There, be­side the wells of wa­ter
From ce­les­ti­al springs,
Celestial springs that flow,
There the ev­er­las­ting kind­ness
Of our Sav­ior we shall know.

When our fi­nal march is end­ed,
And the last dread con­flict o’er;
When the world re­cedes for­ev­er,
To re­volve as now no more;
When the hosts of God’s re­deemed ones
With the grand or­ches­tral throng
Of the an­gels and arch­an­gels
Shout their hal­le­lu­jah song.

Refrain

There’s a ri­ver that pro­ceedeth
From our Fa­ther’s throne above,
Still re­flect­ing on its bo­som
His eter­nal light of love;
Oh, to think that on its mar­gin
With our kin­dred we may dwell,
In a home be­yond the sha­dows
Never more to say fare­well.

Refrain