The Shining Shore
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1. My days are gliding swiftly by, And I, a pilgrim stranger, Would not detain them as they fly, These hours of toil and danger. Chorus For now we stand on Jordan's strand, Our friends are passing over; And just before the Shining Shore We may almost discover. 2. We'll gird our loins, my brethren dear, Our heav'nly home discerning; Our absent Lord has left us word, Let ev'ry lamp be burning. 3. Should coming days be cold and dark, We need not cease our singing; That perfect rest naught can molest, Where golden harps are ringing. 4. Let sorrow's rudest tempests blow, Each chord on earth to sever; Our King says, Come, and there's our home, Forever and forever. |
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