THE FLIGHT OF THE DOVE.
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THE FLIGHT OF THE DOVE.
"Who are these that fly as a cloud, and as the doves to their windows?"—Isaiah lx. 8.
I am going, mother, I am going
To the spirit land;
O'er the titleless river flowing
Where angels stand.
Yea, beyond that little star,
"Where God's holy children are,
To my home of light afar,
Mid that blest band.
To the spirit land;
O'er the titleless river flowing
Where angels stand.
Yea, beyond that little star,
"Where God's holy children are,
To my home of light afar,
Mid that blest band.
I am leaving, mother, I am leaving
Sin's chains below;
All the woes that years are weaving,
Never to know.
I shall live at Jesu's feet;
Sing the new song, clear and sweet.
Watch and pray that we may meet
Where now I go.
Sin's chains below;
All the woes that years are weaving,
Never to know.
I shall live at Jesu's feet;
Sing the new song, clear and sweet.
Watch and pray that we may meet
Where now I go.
I am praising, mother, I am praising
Christ's love to me;
While thy dear eyes, downward gazing,
No light can see;
Yet on yon glorious throne
Christ's love to me;
While thy dear eyes, downward gazing,
No light can see;
Yet on yon glorious throne
