In one grand but gentle chorus, Floating to the starry dome, Came the words that brought them nearer, Words that told of "Home, Sweet Home."
For awhile, all strife forgotten, They were only brothers then, Joining in the sweet old chorus, Not as soldiers, but as men.
Men whose hearts would flow together, Though apart their feet might roam, Found a tie they could not sever, In the mem'ry of each home.
Never may the steps of carnage Shake our land from shore to shore, But may mother, home and Heaven, Be our watchwords evermore.
They shall see Him in the crimson flush Of morning's early light, In the drapery of sunset, Around the couch of night.
When the clouds drop down their fatness, In late and early rain, They shall see His glorious footprints On valley, hill and plain.
They shall see Him when the cyclone Breathes terror through the land;They shall see Him 'mid the murmurs Of zephyrs soft and bland.
They shall see Him when the lips of health, Breath vigor through each nerve, When pestilence clasps hands with death, His purposes to serve.
They shall see Him when the trembling earth Is rocking to and fro;They shall see Him in the order The seasons come and go.
They shall see Him when the storms of war Sweep wildly through the land;When peace descends like gentle dew They still shall see His hand.
They shall see Him in the city Of gems and pearls of light.
They shall see Him in his beauty, And walk with Him in white.
To living founts their feet shall tend, And Christ shall be their guide, Beloved of God, their rest shall be In safety by His side.
