Poetry

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When we're called up home to Heaven,
finally across the Great Divide;
Meet our Savior there in person,
as those gates swing open wide.

When we take that trip to glory,
just beyond the western sky;
All our troubles will be over,
no more tears will dim the eye!

As the roll is called up yonder,
hear my Jesus call your name;
All our bodies will be perfect,
just our souls remain the same.

Oh, we'll meet so many people,
when the Saints all gather 'round;
All rejoicing, singing praises,
not one face will wear a frown!

Yes, I"m sure there'll be some dancing,
with the lame man moving free;
Bet you'll hear a bit of shouting
since the blind man now can see!

Sure we'll see familiar faces,
of our loved ones gone before;
With eternity together,
now can walk the Golden shore!

What a joyful time will be then,
when He takes us by the hand;
Leads us Home with Him forever,
to sweet Home in Beulah Land!

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