In My Father’s house are many mansions. John 14:2
I am thinking of home, of my Father’s house,
Where the many bright mansions be;
Of the city whose streets are all covered with gold,
Of its jasper walls pure and fair to behold,
Which the righteous alone ever see.
Oh home! sweet home! sweet home!
I am thinking and longing for home;
Beyond the pearly gate,
Many mansions wait
For the weary ones who journey home.
I am thinking of home, of the loved ones there,
Dearest friends who have gone before;
With whom we went down to the death-river’s side,
And so sadly thought as we watched by the tide,
Of the thrice happy mornings of yore.
I am thinking of home; I am homesick now,
And my spirit doth long to be
In the far better land, where the saints ever sing
Of the love of Christ, their Redeemer and king,
And of mercy so costly, so free.
I am thinking of home! yes, of
home, sweet home;
May we all in that home unite
With the white covered throng, and exultingly raise
To the triune God, sweetest anthems of praise,
Singing glory, and honor, and might.