There Is A Calm Beyond Life’s

There Is A Calm Beyond Life’s Fitful Fever,
A Deep Repose, An Everlasting Rest;
Where White-Robed Angels Welcome The Believer
Among The Blest, Among The Blest.
There Is A Home, Where All The Soul’s Deep Yearnings,
And Silent Prayers Shall Be At Last Fulfilled;
Where Strife And Sorrow, Murmurings And Heart Burnings
At Last Are Stilled, At Last Are Stilled.

There Is A Hope, To Which The Christian, Clinging,
Is Lifted High Above Life’s Surging Wave;
Finds Life In Death, And Fadeless Flowers Springing
From The Dark Grave, From The Dark Grave.
There Is A Crown Prepared For Those Who Love Him;
The Christian Sees It In The Distance Shine,
Like A Bright Beacon Glittering Above Him,
And Whispers, “Mine!” And Whispers, “Mine!”

There Is A Spotless Robe Of Christ’s Own Weaving;
Will You Not Wrap It Round Your Sin-Stained Soul?
Poor Wandering Child, Upon Thy Past Life Grieving,
Christ Makes Thee Whole! Christ Makes Thee Whole!
There Is A Home, A Harp, A Crown In Heaven;
Alas! That Any Should Thy Gift Refuse!
The Awful Choice Of Life And Death Is Given
Which Wilt Thou Choose? Which Wilt Thou Choose?