I am waiting for the Master, Who will rise and bid me come To the glory of His presence, To the gladness of His home,
They are watch . . . ing at the portal, They are wait . . . ing at the door ; Waiting on ly for my coming, All the loved . . . ones gone before.
2. Many a weary path I've travelled In the darkest storm and strife, Bearing many a heavy burden, Often struggling for my life.
3. Many friends who travelled with me, Reached that portal long ago ; One by one they left me battling With the dark and crafty foe.
4. Yes, their pilgrimage was shorter, Aiid their triumph sooner won; Oh, how lovingly they'll greet me When the toils of life are done.