Across pure blue, grand azure lanes
And above great billows of white,
My soul flies home on silver wings,
Now rent the garbs dreary of night.

Away I soar, earth’s ties cut loose,
For its weight can no longer hold;
Remembered not is flesh, its ruse
That once stood as genuine gold.

Most happy day! The Savior calls,
And God’s angels escort His grace,
Whisking back to resplendent halls
A flightless bird to know His face...

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