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Words by Travis Vick; Music and arrangement by Abigail Miller Used by Permission.
It sets still in the West, But, we now are bowed down in grief, For you’ve gone on to rest. What music from God’s Hall heard you? What bade you leave the womb? And slip up through the starry blue, By the path of your own tomb? ‘Twas not the reapers cruel scythe, No claw on Death’s grim hand, But a call to God, to peace, to life, A voice across the strand. Through heaven’s gate you dance with mirth, And through a glowing hall, On splendor never seen on earth, You gazed in joy and awe. Chorus:
And there you heard the Angels harps, And there the Saints did sing, And there above all sparkling stars, You knelt before the King. And there the glad hosannas rang, Rejoicing 'round the throne, Loud songs of praise the Cherubs sang, For a child of God come home. The sun still rises in the East, It sets still in the West, But you’ve gone on to heaven’s feast, To live with God at rest. A though we’re left to weep a day, And mourn in this world of men, Heaven rings with your shouts of play, And we shall meet again. Chorus:
(And there we'll hear the Angels harps, And with the Saints we'll sing, And there above all sparkling stars, We'll kneel before the King.) And there the glad hosannas ring, Rejoicing 'round the throne, Loud songs of praise the Cherubs sing, For a child of God come home. And there the glad hosannas ring, Rejoicing 'round the throne, Loud songs of praise the Cherubs sing, For a child of God come home. Our hearts are waiting for the day, When we meet again at home. |
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