Let me go; my soul is weary

Of the chain which binds me here;

Let my spirit bend its pinion

To a brighter, holier sphere.

Earth, ’tis true hath friends that bless me

With their fond and faithful love;

But the hands of angels beckon

Onward to the climes above.

2 Let me go; for earth hath sorrow,

Sin, and pain, and bitter tears;

All its paths are dark and dreary,

All its hopes are fraught with fears;

Short-lived are its brightest flowers,

Soon its cherished joys decay:—

Let me go; I fain would leave it

For the realms of endless day.

3 Let me go; my heart hath tasted

Of my Saviour’s wondrous grace;

Let me go, where I shall ever

See and know him face to face.

Let me go; the trees of heavén

Rise before me, waving bright,

And the distant, crystal waters

Flash upon my failing sight.

4 Let me go; for songs seraphic

Now seem calling from the sky—

’Tis the welcome of the angels,

Which e’en now are hovering nigh:

Let me go: they wait to bear me

To the mansions of the blest;

Where the spirit, worn and weary,

Finds at last its long sought rest.