First Line: Oh to be over yonder,

Oh to be over yonder,*
In that bright land of wonder,
Where the angel-voices mingle, and
the angel-harps do ring !
To be free from care and sorrow,
And the anxious, dread to-morrow,
To rest in light and sunshine in the
presence of the King !

Oh ... to be over yonder 1
In . . that land of wonder, . .
There . . to be for ever
In the presence of the King !

2 Oh to be over yonder !
My longing heart grows fonder
Of looking to the far-off east, to see
the day-star bring
Some tidings of the awaking —
Of the cloudless, pure daybreaking :
My heart is yearning — yearning for
the coming of the King.

3 Oh to be over yonder !
Alas ! I sigh and ponder —
Why clings this poor weak heart of
mine to any earthly thing ?
For each earthly tie must sever,
And pass away for ever :
There's no more separation in the
presence of the King !

4 Oh, when shall I be dwelling
Where angel voices, swelling
In triumphant hallelujahs, make the
vaulted heavens ring ? —
Where the pearly gates are gleaming,
And the Morning Star is beaming?
Oh, when shall I be yonder in the
presence of the King ?

5 Ob, when shall I be yonder ?
The longing groweth stronger
To join in all the praises the redeemed
ones do sing,
Within those heavenly places,
Where the angels veil their faces,
In awe and adoration, in the presence of the King !