Far, far away, there’s a many-mansioned dwelling,
Where the Savior waits to welcome the dear souls for whom He died;
All across the darksome valley, I can hear their anthems swelling,
And amid the golden glory I can see them by His side.
In the home so far away.

Far, far away, there’s a haven deep and quiet,
Where the noiseless waves lie sleeping on the mountain-sheltered shore,
Where the surges never enter, where no stormy tempests riot,
Where the sails are furled forever and the ship goes out no more,
From the haven far away.

Onward I travel, in gladness or in sorrow,
Across these trackless waters, with His love to cheer me through;
And as every sunset closes, I can fancy that the morrow
Will fire the heav’nly mountains, with the haven full in view
And no longer far away.

The golden gates are lifted up,
The doors are opened wide;
The King of Glory is gone in
Unto His Father’s side.

Thou art gone up before us, Lord,
To make for us a place,
That we may be where now Thou art,
And look upon God’s face.

And ever on our earthly path
A gleam of glory lies,
A light still breaks behind the cloud
That veiled Thee from our eyes.

Lift up our hearts, lift up our minds:
Let Thy dear grace be giv’n;
That, while we wander here below,
Our treasure be in Heav’n.

That where Thou art, at God’s right hand,
Our hope, our love, may be:
Dwell Thou in us, that we may dwell
Forevermore in Thee.

“Home at last” on heav’nly mountains,
Heard the “Come and enter in”;
Saved by life’s fair flowing fountains,
Saved from earthly taint and sin.

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“Home, sweet home,” our home forever;
All the pilgrim journey past;
Welcomed home to wander never,
Saved through Jesus—“Home at last.”

Free at last from all temptation,
No more need of watchful care;
Joyful in complete salvation,
Giv’n the victor’s crown to wear.

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Saved to greet on hills of glory
Loved ones we have missed so long;
Saved to tell the sinner’s story,
Saved to sing redemption’s song.

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Welcomed at the pearly portal,
Ever more a welcome guest;
Welcomed to the life immortal,
In the mansions of the blest.

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O think of the home over there,
By the side of the river of light,
Where the saints, all immortal and fair,
Are robed in their garments of light.
Over there, over there,
O think of the home over there,
Over there, over there,
O think of the home over there.

O think of the friends over there,
Who before us the journey have trod,
Of the songs that they breathe on the air,
In their home in the palace of God.
Over there, over there,
O think of the friends over there,
Over there, over there,
O think of the friends over there.

My Savior is now over there,
There my kindred and friends are at rest,
Then away from my sorrow and care,
Let me fly to the land of the blest.
Over there, over there,
My Savior is now over there,
Over there, over there,
My Savior is now over there.

I’ll soon be at home over there,
For the end of my journey I see;
Many dear to my heart, over there,
Are watching and waiting for me.
Over there, over there,
I’ll soon be at home over there,
Over there, over there,
I’ll soon be at home over there.

The Homeland! O the Homeland! The land of souls free born!
No gloomy night is known there, but only fadeless morn:
I’m sighing for that country, my heart is aching here;
There is no pain in the Homeland to which I’m drawing near.

My Lord is in the Homeland, with angels bright and fair;
No sinful thing nor evil, can ever enter there;
The music of the ransomed is ringing in my ears,
And when I think of the Homeland, my eyes are wet with tears.

For loved ones in the Homeland are waiting me to come,
Where neither death nor sorrow invades their holy home:
O dear, dear native country! O rest and peace above!
Christ bring us all to the Homeland, of His eternal love.

We sing of a land where the servants of God
Shall meet when their journey is o’er,
And clasp their glad hands as they gather at morn,
To labor and sorrow no more.

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We sing of the beautiful mansions of rest
Our Savior has gone to prepare;
And oh, when we think of the bliss they unfold,
In spirit, how oft we are there.

We sing of a land where the leaves never fall,
A land where their bloom never dies;
And Jesus Himself, with His own loving hand,
Will wipe every tear from our eyes.

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We sing of the palms that the conquerors wave,
Who triumphed through Jesus our Lord;
Who fought to the last, and with shouts on their tongues,
Went home to receive their reward.

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We sing of the friends who are waiting today
For us in that region so fair;
But who can describe what a joy it will be
To know that indeed we are there?

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When the pearly gates are opened
To a sinner “saved by grace,”
When thro’ everlasting mercy,
I behold my Savior’s face,
When I enter in the mansions
Of the city bright and fair,
I shall have a royal welcome,
For I’ll be no stranger there.

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I shall be no stranger there;
Jesus will my place prepare;
He will meet me, He will greet me;
I shall be no stranger there.

Thro’ time’s ever changing seasons,
I am pressing t’ward the goal;
’Tis my heart’s sweet native country,
’Tis the homeland of my soul;
Many loved ones, clothed with beauty,
In those wondrous glories share;
When I rise, redeemed, forgiven,
I shall be no stranger there.

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There my dear Redeemer liveth,
Blessèd Lamb upon the throne;
By the crimson marks upon them,
He will surely claim His own.
So, whenever sad or lonely,
Look beyond the earthly care;
Weary child of God, remember,
You will be no stranger there.

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My heav’nly home is bright and fair,
Nor pain nor death can enter there;
Its glittering towers the sun outshine,
That heav’nly mansion shall be mine.

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I’m going home, I’m going home,
I’m going home to die no more,
To die no more, to die no more,
I’m going home to die no more.

My Father’s home is built on high,
Far, far above the starry sky;
When from this earthly prison free,
That heav’nly mansion mine shall be.

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Let others seek a home below,
Which flames devour, or waves o’erflow;
Be mine a happier lot to own
A heav’nly mansion near the throne.

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There’s a land that is fairer than day,
And by faith we can see it afar;
For the Father waits over the way
To prepare us a dwelling place there.

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In the sweet by and by,
We shall meet on that beautiful shore;
In the sweet by and by,
We shall meet on that beautiful shore.

We shall sing on that beautiful shore
The melodious songs of the blessed;
And our spirits shall sorrow no more,
Not a sigh for the blessing of rest.

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To our bountiful Father above,
We will offer our tribute of praise
For the glorious gift of His love
And the blessings that hallow our days.

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O Christ, who hast prepared a place
For us around Thy throne of grace,
We pray Thee, lift our hearts above,
And draw them with the cords of love.

Source of all good, Thou, gracious Lord,
Art our exceeding great reward;
How transient is our present pain,
How boundless our eternal gain!

With open face and joyful heart,
We then shall see Thee as Thou art:
Our love shall never cease to glow,
Our praise shall never cease to flow.

Thy never-failing grace to prove,
A surety of Thine endless love,
Send down Thy Holy Ghost, to be
The raiser of our souls to Thee.

One sweetly solemn thought
Comes to me o’er and o’er;
Nearer to my home today am I
Than e’er I’ve been before.

Nearer my Father’s house,
Where many mansions be;
Nearer today, the great white throne,
Nearer the crystal sea.

Nearer the bound of life
Where burdens are laid down;
Nearer to leave the heavy cross,
Nearer to gain the crown.

But lying darkly between,
Winding down through the night,
Is the deep and unknown stream
To be crossed ere we reach the light.

Closer and closer my steps
Come to the dread abysm,
Closer death to my lips
Presses the awful chrism.

Feel as I would my feet,
Are slipping over the brink;
For it may be, I'm nearer home—
Nearer now than I think.

Father, perfect my trust!
Strengthen my power of faith!
Nor let me stand, at last, alone
Upon the shore of death.

Be Thee near when my feet
Are slipping over the brink;
For it may be I’m nearer home,
Nearer now than I think.

Over the river my loved ones have passed,
Over the beautiful river;
Safe in the mansions of glory at last,
Now they are watching for me.

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Watching today,
Watching today;
Loved ones are waiting,
Are waiting my coming today.

Over the river with Jesus they rest,
Over the beautiful river;
Learning and singing the songs of the blest,
Yet they are watching for me.

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Over the river that sparkles so clear,
Over the beautiful river;
Oft in the silence their voices I hear,
Still they are watching for me.

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Over the river, to sever no more,
Over the beautiful river;
Soon I shall meet them on yonder bright shore,
Loved ones now watching for me.

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Our Father’s home eternal,
O Christ, Thou dost prepare
With many divers mansions,
And each one passing fair;
They are the victors’ guerdon,
Who, through the hard-won fight,
Have followed in Thy footsteps,
And reign with Thee in light.

Amidst the happy number
The virgins’ crown and queen,
The ever-virgin mother
Is first and foremost seen;
The patriarchs in their triumph
Thy praises nobly sing;
The prophets of Thy wisdom
Adore the nations’ King.

Th’apostles reign in glory,
The martyrs joy in Thee;
The virgins and confessors
Thy shining brightness see;
And every patient sufferer,
Who sorrow dared contemn,
For each especial anguish
Hath one especial gem.

The holy men and women,
Their earthly struggle o’er,
With joy put off the armor
That they shall need no more;
For these, and all that battled
Beneath their Monarch’s eyes,
The harder was the conflict,
The brighter is the prize.

And every faithful servant
Made perfect in Thy grace,
Hath each his fitting station
’Mid those that see Thy face;
The bondsman and the noble,
The peasant and the king,
All gird one glorious Monarch
In one eternal ring.

Rise, my soul, and stretch thy wings, thy better portion trace;
Rise from transitory things, toward Heaven, thy native place:
Sun and moon and stars decay, time shall soon this earth remove;
Rise, my soul, and haste away to seats prepared above.

Rivers to the ocean run, nor stay in all their course;
Fire ascending seeks the sun; both speed them to their source:
So my soul, that’s born of God, pants to view His glorious face,
Upward tends to His abode, to rest in His embrace.

Fly me riches, fly me cares, whilst I that coast explore;
Flattering world, with all thy snares, solicit me no more.
Pilgrims fix not here their home; strangers tarry but a night;
When the last dear morn is come, they’ll rise to joyful light.

Cease, ye pilgrims, cease to mourn, press onward to the prize;
Soon thy Savior will return, triumphant in the skies:
Yet a season, and you know happy entrance will be given
All our sorrows left below, and earth exchanged for Heaven.

There’ll be room enough in Heaven,
There’ll be room enough for me,
If I bear the cross of Jesus,
And a faithful follower be.

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There’ll be room enough in Heaven,
There’ll be room enough for me.
If I bear the cross of Jesus,
And a faithful follower be.

There’ll be room enough in Heaven,
In those mansions bright and fair,
Which the mighty King of glory
Has gone thither to prepare.

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There’ll be room enough in Heaven,
With the ransomed gone before,
If we keep the narrow pathway,
Entering in thro’ Christ the Door.

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In the house of many mansions,
With its portals bright and fair,
I am laying up my treasures,
And my heart will soon be there.

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At the river that divides me
From my Father’s house on high,
I am waiting, I am watching,
Till the boat comes by.

I have seen it in the distance,
As it bent its snowy sail,
To the music of the waters,
And the whisper of the gale.

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In the house of many mansions,
Dwells my Savior and my King;
I shall see Him in His beauty,
And His praise my tongue shall sing.

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Oh, that boat will soon be coming,
It will bear me home, I know,
To the house of many mansions,
And the friends of long ago.

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Upward where the stars are burning,
Silent, silent in their turning
Round the never changing pole;
Upward where the sky is brightest,
Upward where the blue is lightest,
Lift I now my longing soul.

Far above that arch of gladness,
Far beyond these clouds of sadness,
Are the many mansions fair.
Far from pain and sin and folly,
In that palace of the holy,
I would find my mansion there.

Where the glory brightly dwelleth,
Where the new song sweetly swelleth,
And the discord never comes;
Where life’s stream is ever laving,
And the palm is ever waving,
That must be the home of homes.

Where the Lamb on high is seated,
By ten thousand voices greeted,
Lord of lords, and King of kings.
Son of Man, they crown, they crown Him,
Son of God, they own, they own Him;
With His Name the palace rings.

Blessing, honor, without measure,
Heavenly riches, earthly treasure,
Lay we at His blessèd feet:
Poor the praise that now we render,
Loud shall be our voices yonder,
When before His throne we meet.

Sing the wondrous love of Jesus,
Sing His mercy and His grace.
In the mansions bright and blessèd
He’ll prepare for us a place.

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When we all get to Heaven,
What a day of rejoicing that will be!
When we all see Jesus,
We’ll sing and shout the victory!

While we walk the pilgrim pathway,
Clouds will overspread the sky;
But when traveling days are over,
Not a shadow, not a sigh.

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Let us then be true and faithful,
Trusting, serving every day;
Just one glimpse of Him in glory
Will the toils of life repay.

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Onward to the prize before us!
Soon His beauty we’ll behold;
Soon the pearly gates will open;
We shall tread the streets of gold.

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