Thy Father’s House

Thy Fa­ther’s house! Thine own bright home!

And Thou hast there a place for me!

Though yet an ex­ile here I roam

That dist­ant home by faith I see.

I see its domes re­splen­dent glow

Where beams of God’s own glo­ry fall;

And trees of life im­mor­tal grow

Whose fruits o’er­hang the sap­phire wall.

I know that Thou

who on the tree

Didst deign our mor­tal guilt to bear

Will bring Thine own to dwell with Thee

And wait­est to re­ceive me there.

Thy love will there ar­ray my soul

In Thine own robe of spot­less hue;

And I shall gaze while ag­es roll

On Thee

with rap­tures ev­er new.

O wel­come day! when Thou my feet

Shalt bring the shin­ing thresh­old o’er;

A Fa­ther’s warm em­brace to meet

And dwell at home for ev­er­more.