447. Long Upon the Mountains

Long upon the mountains weary, Have the scattered flocks been torn; Dark the dessert paths, and dreary; Grievous trials have they borne. Now the gathering call is sounding, Solemn in its warning voice; Union, faith, and love, abounding, Bid the little flock rejoice. Now the light of truth they’re seeking, In its onward track pursue; All the ten commandments keeping, They are holy, just, and true. On the words of lire they’re feeding, Precious to their taste so sweet; All their Master’s percepts heeding, Bowing humbly to His feet. In that light of light and beauty, In that golden city fair, Soon its pearly gates they’ll enter, And of all its glories share. There, divine the soul’s expansions; Free from sin, and death, and pain; Tear will never dim those mansions Where the souls immortal reign. Soon He comes! With clouds descending; All His saints, entombed arise; The redeemed, in anthems blending, Shout their vict’ry thro’ the skies. O, we long for Thine appearing; Come, O Savior, quickly come! Blessed hope! Our spirits cheering, Take thy ransomed children home.