FAR AWAY WHERE THE ANGELS DWELL.
By Mrs. M. L. O'Reilly
I LONG for a home where sin is not,
And o'er me comes the spell;
My heart yearns so for the blessed spot
Far away where the angels dwell.
I long for the mansion He's gone to prepare,
The beautiful mansion that's "over there,"
And the bridal robes we all shall wear
To the heavenly city of rest. There's a glorious day that soon will come
When we'll walk through the gates ajar;
The angels, too, will welcome home
The pilgrims from afar.
Far away, away where the angels dwell,
And notes of heavenly music swell,
Where sin comes not with its blighting spell,
O, there is the home I love! Far away where the angels dwell—
O, I long for an entrance there,
The glory whereof no tongue can tell
Till we pass through the gates so fair!
There then is rest for the pilgrim's feet,
There is joy for the saved at the mercy-seat,
And the music of heaven divinely sweet,
No sorrow from earth shall mar. O, the music of God forever rolls
Far away where the angels dwell,
And the fathomless longings of our souls
No mortal tongue can tell!
When the ransomed ones are welcomed there
The harpers of God strike a higher air.
Then come with me to that land so fair,
Far away where the angels dwell.
MRS. M. L. O'REILLY.
Vassar, Mich.