Going Home by Pearl Waggoner

Pacific Press Publishing Association · Mountain View, California · Oct 25, 1910

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 37, No. 42.

Going Home

By Pearl Waggoner

A PILGRIM here, I walk alone, While no abiding-place I see; And yet I think, when tired and lone, My Saviour has a place for me. And so, tho footsore oft I roam, This thought is with me o'er and o'er: Each step but takes me nearer home, To rest with Jesus evermore.

What matters it tho fierce the gale, Or rude and chill the winds which blow, Or if earth's castles fair should fail, Or pain my portion be below? Tho smooth or rough the way I roam, The journey long will soon be past, And then, O, then a lasting home Will greet my longing eyes at last.

I'm going home, yes, going home! O, blessed thought, so passing sweet; That far beyond yon azure dome A rest there is for weary feet! I'm going home! I'm going home! Ere I my Father's face shall see, Ere I shall sing the glad new song, And view the place prepared for me.

I'm going home! I'm going home! I'm nearer home each closing day, Where by the waters still I'll roam, When earthly mists have cleared away. O, how my heart delights to sing Those wondrous words, "I'm going home!" To find my rest, to meet my King, I'm going home, yes, going home!