Oh to be over yonder,* In that bright land of wonder, Where the angel-voices mingle, and the angel-harps do ring ! To be free from care and sorrow, And the anxious, dread to-morrow, To rest in light and sunshine in the presence of the King !
Oh ... to be over yonder 1 In . . that land of wonder, . . There . . to be for ever In the presence of the King !
2. Oh to be over yonder ! My longing heart grows fonder Of looking to the far-off east, to see the day-star bring Some tidings of the awaking â Of the cloudless, pure daybreaking : My heart is yearning â yearning for the coming of the King.
3. Oh to be over yonder ! Alas ! I sigh and ponder â Why clings this poor weak heart of mine to any earthly thing ? For each earthly tie must sever, And pass away for ever : There's no more separation in the presence of the King !
4. Oh, when shall I be dwelling Where angel voices, swelling In triumphant hallelujahs, make the vaulted heavens ring ? â Where the pearly gates are gleaming, And the Morning Star is beaming? Oh, when shall I be yonder in the presence of the King ?
5. Ob, when shall I be yonder ? The longing groweth stronger To join in all the praises the redeemed ones do sing, Within those heavenly places, Where the angels veil their faces, In awe and adoration, in the presence of the King !