A home in heaven.

A HOME in heaven! what a joyful tho't, As the poor man toils in his weary lot, His heart oppressed, and with anguish driv'n From his home below to his home in heav'n.

A home in heaven! As the suff 'rer lies On his bed of pain, and uplifts his eyes To that bright home, what a joy is given, With that blessed thought of his home in heav'n.

A home in heaven! When our pleasures fade, And our wealth and fame in the dust are laid, And streng'th decays and our health is riven, We are happy still with our home in heav'n.

A home in heaven! When the faint heart bleeds. By the Spirit's strokes for its evil deeds, Oh, then what bliss in that heart forgiven, Does the hope inspire of a home in heaven!

A home in heaven! When our friends are fled To the cheerless gloom of the mouldering dead, We wait in hope on the promise given— We will meet up there in our home in heaven.