“I have my passport!” no shadow of fear,
Nor doubt as pilgrim staff I lay aside,
For I am leaning on a long known Guide
Whose love has lightened the wilderness drear.
But now He bids me before Him appear,
He who for my sins has suffered and died,
‘Tis Jesus, my Lord! the once Crucified!
He is my Passport! my title is clear!
“With the Lord!” absent here—at home with Him,
Whose mercy sought and saved my wandering soul,
That grace, whose glory naught in heaven shall dim,
Shall there each ransomed, praising heart control.
And as I gaze, while endless ages roll,
Praise to the Lord shall be my ceaseless hymn.