And is it so? A lit­tle while,
And then the life un­dy­ing,
The light of God’s un­cloud­ed smile,
The sing­ing for the sigh­ing?
A lit­tle while! O glo­ri­ous word,
Sweet so­lace of our sor­row;
And then for­ev­er with the Lord,
The ev­er­last­ing mor­row.

Then be it ours to jour­ney on
In paths that He de­crees us,
Where His own feet be­fore have gone,
Our strength, our hope, our Je­sus;
In lowly fel­low­ship with Him
The cross ap­point­ed bear­ing;
For O a crown no grief can dim
One day we shall be wear­ing.

O ’twill be pass­ing sweet to gaze
On Him in all His glo­ry;
And lost in love and glad am­aze
To shout re­demp­tion’s sto­ry;
Till an­gels bend to catch the strain
Our hu­man lips are swell­ing,
And wor­thy is the Lamb once slain,
Resounds through Hea­ven’s high dwell­ing.