1 Long upon the mountains, weary;
Have the scattered flock been torn;
Dark the desert 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.
2 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 life they're feeding,
Precious to their taste, so sweet;
All their Master's precepts heeding,
Bowing humbly at his feet.
3 In that world 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;
Tears will never dim those mansions
Where the saints immortal reign.
4 Soon He comes! with clouds descending;
All his saints, entombed, arise;
The redeemed, in anthems blending,
Shout their victory through the skies.
O, we long for thine appearing;
Come, O Saviour, quickly come!
Blessed hope! our spirits cheering,
Take my ransomed children home.