And have I loved this world too much?
Is that why I so grieve?
Of kith and kin, of hopes and dreams
I now must take my leave.
The field and sea and mountain snow,
The desert flower and wood –
You made them, O Creator God,
Declaring them all good.
Then how can I, with only hints
Of what may lie beyond,
Not be averse to say goodbye
To joys that I have known?
Of course, I’ll go where you may call;
I’ve long since made that choice.
And through the years, my dearest Friend,
I’ve learned to trust Your voice.
And I expect to see You there,
Who, like me, walked this world,
Full knowing both its joys and pains,
Yet from its bosom hurled.
And when we share that heav’n prepared
For joyous, warm embrace,
Might it be Earth without the sin
Where all may know Your face?