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Longings for Home

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Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Feb 22, 1912

FromReview and Herald, Vol. 89, No. 8.

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Longings for Home

By L. D. SANTEE

L. D. SANTEE
My hope wings are weary, yet flying To a shadowless country, whose bliss Just over time’s river is lying, Not darkened with sorrows like this.
My spirit goes forward with longing, Beyond the dull winter of time, Where the angelic choristers thronging, Are chanting their music sublime.
O, I long with desire strong and tender, For the wonderful evergreen hills, Where the sunlight of heavenly splendor, Shall drive away all of earth’s ills.
I study the word of the Highest, I ponder the promises given, That those who to him live the highest Shall enter the portals of heaven.
I think of my heart’s earthly treasures, Some scattered, some low ’neath the ground, And empty are life’s sweetest pleasures, Till the Archangel’s trumpet shall sound.
Whether sleeping, or waking, I’ll greet them When the Master shall call for his own; In the raptures of heaven I’ll meet them, And know them as now I am known.
They fell in the gloom of death’s sadness; From the pathways of earth they are missed; But I’ll greet with unspeakable gladness, The beautiful lips I have kissed.
And I wait, while the seasons are flying, That call from the evergreen shore, That shall end all earth’s sickness and sighing, And banish all death evermore.
Moline, Ill.