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The Joy of the Sons of God

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Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Dec 21, 1911

FromReview and Herald, Vol. 88, No. 51.

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The Joy of the Sons of God

By L. D. Santee

L. D. SANTEE
Ye shall grieve no more, on the other shore; For the toils of the way are past, And words are weak when the soul would speak; Thank God, you are home at last. O’er the streets of gold is the Shepherd’s fold, Where sin has never trod: Ye shall walk in white, with the saints in light, In the joy of the sons of God.
O, the eyes are bright, and the heart is light, For sorrow shall flee away; With the loved you’ll stand in the dear home land, In the light of an endless day. No pain, no tears in the coming years; Ye shall walk where the angels trod, In that city above, in that home of love, In the joy of the sons of God.
Ye shall see each face, with its tender grace, And eyes with love shall glow; And brows so white, where the curls lay bright, Like sunbeams o’er the snow. Ye list for the song of the blood-washed throng, Ye would leave this earth’s low clod, Till desires grow strong, and your spirits long For the joy of the sons of God.
Moline, Ill.