1 O where is the home of the soul to be found?
Who knows its true shelter where comforts abound?
What city of refuge will offer a place
That sin cannot enter, the soul to disgrace?
Nowhere, nowhere do we behold
On earth such a city of blessings untold.
2 So leave this poor earth if yon home thou wouldst see,
The home of the sainted from sorrow made free.
Jerusalem yonder, resplendent in gold,
Wilt thou to the soul all thy beauties unfold?
Truly, truly, no more to roam,
My soul with the Savior shall there be at home.
3 How blissful to dwell in those regions of light,
Where death, sin and sorrow our joys cannot blight!
The sounding of harps by that heavenly throng
Will welcome the soul to glad music and song.
Sweet rest, deep rest, thou wilt be mind
When I in the arms of my Savior recline.
Source: American Lutheran Hymnal #641