HERE O'ER THE EARTH AS A STRANGER I ROAM

Here o'er the earth as a stranger I roam,
Here is no rest-is no rest;
Here as a pilgrim I wander alone,
Yet I am blest-I am blest.
For I look forward to that glorious day
When sin and sorrow shall vanish away;
My heart doth leap while I hear Jesus say,
There, there is rest-there is rest.

Here are afflictions and trials severe,
Here is no rest-is no rest;
Here I must part with the friends I hold dear,
Yet I am blest-I am blest.
Sweet is the promise I read in Thy Word;
Blessed are they who have died in the Lord;
They have been called to receive their reward;
There, there is rest-there is rest.

This world of care is a wilderness state,
Here is no rest-is no rest;
But I must bear from the world all its hate,
Yet I am blest-I am blest.
Soon shall I be from the wicked released;
Soon shall the weary for ever be blest;
Soon shall I lean upon Jesus' breast;
There, there is rest-there is rest.