land of rest, for thee I sigh ! When will the moment come, When I shall lay my armour by, And dwell in peace at home ?
We'll work . . till Jesus comes ; We'll work . . till Jesus comes ; We'll work . . till Jesus comes j And we'll be gathered home.
2. No tranquil joys on earth I know, No peaceful sheltering dome ; This world's a wilderness of woe, This world is not my home.
3. To Jesus Christ I fled for rest : He bade me cease to roam, And lean for succour on His breast, Till He conduct me home.
4. I sought at once my Saviour's side : No more my steps shall roam ; With Him I'll brave death's chilling tide, And reach my heavenly home,