Are, We Almost There?

Verse 1

"ARE we almost there? Are we almost there?"
Says the weary saint as he sighs for home;
"Are those the verdant trees that rear
Their stately forms' mid heav'n's bright dome."

Verse 1

"ARE we almost there? Are we almost there?"
Says the weary saint as he sighs for home;
"Are those the verdant trees that rear
Their stately forms 'mid heaven's bright dome."

Verse 2

Then he talks of the flowers, the unsullied stream,
That flows through the Paradise of God;
And he longs to wake from life's troubled dream,
To walk those golden streets abroad.

Verse 2

Then he talks of the flowers, the unsullied stream,
That flows through the Paradise of God;
And he longs to wake from life's troubled dream,
To walk those golden streets abroad.

Verse 3

He is weary and sick of this world's rude strife,
And pants for a holy, peaceful clime;
To glow with the vigor of endless life,
And be compass'd no more by the bounds of time.

Verse 3

He is weary and sick of this world's rude strife,
And pants for a holy, peaceful clime;
To glow with the vigor of endless life,
And be compass'd no more by the bounds of time.

Verse 4

His eye is fix'd on the world to come,
He walks by faith through this vale of care,
And oft inquires as he draws near home,
With anxious heart, "Are we almost there?"

Verse 4

His eye is fixed on the world to come,
He walks by faith through this vale of care,
And oft inquires as he draws near home,
With anxious heart, "Are we almost there?"

Not in this version

Verse 5

They bid him look at the charms of earth,
At the boasted trophies man doth rear;
To enter the giddy halls of mirth–
But ah! How vain do they all appear.

Verse 5

For he's had an earnest of those joys
Which the righteous alone can ever share;
He turns with contempt from these earthly toys,
And fervently asks—"Are we almost there?"

Verse 6

For he's had an earnest of those joys
Which the righteous alone can ever share;
He turns with contempt from these earthly toys,
And fervently asks–" Are we almost there?"

Not in this version

Verse 7

He is waiting to hear the trumpet sound,
And to meet his Saviour in the air;
The day-star dawns—soon with joyous bound,
He can say indeed–"We are almost there!"

Verse 6

Then lift up thine head, rejoice and be glad,
For in that bright world thou'lt never be sad;
And thou shall pass from this world of strife
To the city fair, and the tree of life.

Not in this version

Verse 7

Then lift up thy heart thou despairing saint,
The Lord will come, thou needs't not faint,
For the Lord's own hand shall wipe from thy face
The last lone tear, and speak to thee peace.

Not in this version