When We Get Home (Latta)

When we get home to that beau­ti­ful land

With its beau­ti­ful ci­ty of gold;

When we have passed o’er the riv­er of death

And are safe in the heav­en­ly fold;

Wearisome toil

tri­bu­la­tion and care

That bur­den our spir­its to­day

Like as a dream or a sha­dow shall pass—

Shall pass

un­re­turn­ing

away.

When we get home

how sweet ’twill be!

When we get home

how sweet ’twill be!

When we get home from our wan­der­ings here

To that clime where they wan­der no more;

When

with the loved that have passed in­to rest

We shall stand with our harps on the shore;

Sorrow and strife

and our prone­ness to err

The pain and the sick­ness we bear

Like as a dream or a sha­dow shall pass

And ne’er shall they trou­ble us there.

When we get home

and it will not be long

Till we fin­ish our jour­ney be­low;

When we shall lose ev­ery cum­ber­ing weight

And the sins that doth hin­der us so;

Tears that we shed in our sor­row­ful hours

The fears and the doubts that mo­lest

Like as a dream or a sha­dow shall pass

And reach not the home of the blest.