There’s not a ray of that bright place,
As shining in the Saviour’s face,
But lightsome shines within the heart
Of those who find their deathless part
With Christ in yonder blest abode,
The purchase of His own life’s blood.
‘Tis ours, and there we find our home;
Nor storms, nor clouds, nor tempests come
Within the haven of that rest,
Where we as one with Him are blest—
The Father’s Son enthroned on high,
Who died for us on Calvary.
At home with Him in glory bright,
Where all is love and all is light;
For God is all in all above,
And “God is light” and “God is love.”
At home—sweet thought—at home with God:
At home through Jesus’ precious blood!
Naught else could fit us for that place
But love divine and sovereign grace:
Grace that could rise above our sin,
Love that could love us though unclean.
Such love and grace in Christ we see,
That brought Him down to Calvary.
But now He’s seated on the throne,
His portion there in light our own;
And endless days shall bear our song
In light, and joy, and praise along,
“To Him who saved us by His blood,
And brought us home to dwell with God.”