1
Long upon the mountains weary,
Have the scattered flocks been torn;
Dark the dessert paths, and dreary;
Grievous trials have they borne.
Now the gathering call is sounding,
Solemn in its warning voice;
Union, faith, and love, abounding,
Bid the little flock rejoice.

2
Now the light of truth they're seeking,
In its onward track pursue;
All the ten commandments keeping,
They are holy, just, and true.
On the words of lire they're feeding,
Precious to their taste so sweet;
All their Master's percepts heeding,
Bowing humbly to His feet.

3
In that world of light and beauty,
In that golden city fair,
Soon its pearly gates they'll enter,
And of all its glories share.
There, divine the soul's expansions;
Free from sin, and death, and pain;
Tear will never dim those mansions
Where the saints immortal reign.

4
Soon He comes! With clouds descending;
All His saints, entombed arise;
The redeemed, in anthems blending,
Shout their victory through the skies.
O, we long for Thine appearing;
Come, O Savior, quickly come!
Blessed hope! Our spirits cheering,
Take thy ransomed children home.