Our home is beyond the tide, friend,—
Our home is beyond the tide,
Where the glorious city of light is seen
Whose gates are open wide.
Through the golden streets of that city fair
We soon shall pass along;
And a holy joy shall fill our hearts
As we greet the shining throng
Who walk those streets through the endless day,
Earth's dear ones side by side.
Oh, the bliss that awaits us when we reach
Our home beyond the tide!

Our home is beyond the tide, friend,—
Our home is beyond the tide,
Where the river of life, with its water bright,
Is rolling deep and wide.
There the tree of life, with its fruit so fair,
O'er the sparkling waters bends;
And beneath its shade, with unmeasured bliss,
We shall meet our cherished friends.
Oh, we soon shall rest in those sacred bowers,
Where no cynic our love shall chide,
And the saints' communion unhindered share,
In our home beyond the tide!

Our home is beyond the tide, friend,—
Our home is beyond the tide;
And though between us and that blissful shore
The river of death may glide,
Yet its waters rough surging around our barks
Can never our souls o'erwhelm:
We've hope for the anchor, and love for the breeze,
And our Saviour at the helm.
We shall safely pass o'er the Jordan of death,
To the land where the saints abide,—
To the home of the angels, the mansions of joy,
To our home beyond the tide.

Our home is beyond the tide, friend,—
Our home is beyond the tide;
And many a loved one, speeding there,
Has vanished from our side.
For us will the voiceless Charon soon
With his muffled oar draw nigh,
And bear us to meet the welcome sweet
Of loved ones now on high.
How thrills the heart with the thought of tones
Which ne'er from our hearts have died,—
Of the faces dear which we hope to greet
In our home beyond the tide!

Our home is beyond the tide, friend,—
Our home is beyond the tide;
And we must not sigh with a vain regret
For the ills which here betide.
But oft, from the heights of faith sublime,
Gaze far o'er the darksome wave,
And bless our God for the rest from care
In the land beyond the grave.
The waves of sin surge no more round the Rock
In the cleft of which we hide:
Oh, with longing hearts we wait the call
To our home beyond the tide!

Our home is beyond the tide, friend,—
Our home is beyond the tide;
And we must not sigh for those earthly joys
“Best Wisdom” hath denied.
For the thorns of earth, there are flowers in heaven;
For its cares, there is long repose;
For the vale of tears, there's the mount of joy
Where the heart with rapture glows.
Then with loving hearts we will do His will
In whose promise our hearts confide,
And patiently wait for our turn to reach
Our home beyond the tide.