On Joyful Wings

On joy­ful wings our rap­tured souls

Would mount and spread their flight

And from Mount Pis­gah’s top be­hold

The land of pure de­light.

Above the clouds

ab­ove the stars

That heav’nly re­gion fair

Where He

our Lord and Sav­ior

dwells

Our home

our home is there.

Sweet vi­sions oft His love re­veals

Of that di­vine ab­ode;

And with His kind

pro­tect­ing hand

He leads us on the road.

O bless­èd hope that bears us up

And stills each throb of care!

The night will pass

the morn will come

And we shall soon be there.