I Often Think of Home -End of Drawing Nigh to God series

I Often Think of Home

 

By: Electa Harding Arnold

 

I often think of home; its welcome shores

Have ever beckoned me through lonely

hours.

I long to slip across her ebbing tide

To where her living streams forever glide.

I long to walk upon her golden strand

Where Friend of all these years will take my

hand,

Where by the crystal depths of jasper sea

The tangled warps of life He'll clear for me.

I often think of home, my heavenly home,

Where weary feet and sore shall never roam.

I strain my eyes in earth's dark hours to see

The lights of home, sweet home, gleam out

for me.

 

I often think of home: with grief-dimmed

eyes

I see through rainbow hues her spires rise.

To bow in rapture at His pierced feet.

To live in ecstasy her joy-filled days,

In sweet communion there my Saviour meet,

I long to tread upon her golden ways,

To have Him place His hand upon my head

In Sweetest benediction ever said.

I often long for home, my heavenly home,

Where angels' songs shall sweep her vaunted

dome.

Someday my bark shall touch her long loved

shore,

My home, sweet home--at least-- forevermore.