Beyond the light of setting suns,
Beyond the clouded sky,
Beyond where starlight fades in night,–
I have a home on high.
A mansion there, not made with hands,
A place prepared for me;
And while God lives, and angels sing,
That home my home shall be.
Beyond all pain, beyond all care,
Beyond life’s mystery,
Beyond the range of time and change,–
My home’s reserved for me.
Swift-flying worlds, their nights that roll
Far out on seas of light,
Will bring no darkness to my soul;
My home’s beyond the night.
My sins and sorrows, strifes and fears,
I bid them all farewell;
High up amid th’ eternal years,
With Christ, my Lord, to dwell.
L.W. Mansfield/Geo.C. Stebbins