When I have fin­ished my jour­ney on earth,
Ended my la­bor of love,
When I am wait­ing for Je­sus to say,
Haste to thy man­sion above.

Refrain

Will they come? Will they come?
Say, will the an­gels come,
And to Je­sus car­ry me home?
Will they come? Will they come?
Say, will the ang­els come,
And to Je­sus car­ry me home?

When I am breath­ing my lat­est fare­well,
Parting from all that is dear,
When on my pil­low I wea­ri­ly turn,
Say, will the an­gels be near?

Refrain

When, as I gaze from the thresh­old of time,
Fainter and faint­er the light,
Softer and soft­er the voic­es I hear,
Bidding my spi­rit good night.

Refrain

Yes; they will come from the bright, sun­ny land,
Come on their pin­ions so fair;
Jesus will send them its glo­ry to tell,
Angels will car­ry me there.

Refrain