Not Far from Heaven’s Gate

Waiting

while I tra­vel on­ward

For the pil­grim’s pro­mised rest

For the crown and joy eter­nal

In the ci­ty of the blest.

Earth

with all its plea­sant voic­es

Cannot stay my toil-worn feet;

Love the pur­est—hope the bright­est—

Hath no pro­mise half so sweet.

Waiting till each cross that meets us

Doth its of­fice work of love;

Making ev­ery bur­den light­er

Turning ev­ery thought ab­ove.

Waiting

aft­er nights of wak­ing;

After days of toil and pain

Leaving all my doubts for­ev­er

Counting all my loss­es gain.

Waiting

till the Bride­groom com­eth

When the bride ar­rayed in white

Shall be­hold the worlds of glo­ry

Fashioned for the sons of light.

Oh

the loved ones that will meet us

When we reach the oth­er shore

Oh

the bright ones that will greet us

When the pilg­rim­age is o’er.

In the light of that fair coun­try

Ever fall­ing on my way

Sorrows cast but fee­ble sha­dows

Night is joy­ous as the day.

Thus my wait­ing on­ly seem­eth

Like love’s vi­gil

full of trust

For I know ere long He com­eth—

He the love­ly and the just.

Let me wait

then

’mid the tem­pest

For the voice that whis­pers peace

Wait with­in the home of sor­row

For the strug­gling soul’s re­lease.

Waiting—this is all life’s mis­sion

On the Prince of Life to wait

He who toils with pa­tient wait­ing

Is not far from Heav­en’s gate.