They are going—only going—

Jesus called them long ago;

All the wintery time they’re passing,

Softly as the falling snow.

When the violets in the spring-time

Catch the azure of the sky,

They are carried out to slumber

Sweetly where the violets lie.

2 They are going—only going—

When with summer earth is dressed,

In their cold hands holding roses

Folded to each silent breast;

When the autumn hangs red banners

Out above the harvest sheaves,

They are going—ever going—

Thick and fast, like falling leaves.

3 All along the mighty ages,

All adown the solemn time,

They have taken up their homeward

March to that serener clime,

Where the watching, waiting angels

Lead them from the shadow dim,

To the brightness of his presence

Who has called them unto him.

4 They are going—only going—

Out of pain and into bliss—

Out of sad and sinful weakness

Into perfect holiness.

Snowy brows—no care shall shade them;

Bright eyes—tears shall never dim;

Rosy lips—no time shall fade them:

Jesus called them unto him.

5 Little hearts for ever stainless—

Little hands as pure as they—

Little feet by angels guided,

Never a forbidden way!

They are going—ever going—

Leaving many a lonely spot;

But ’tis Jesus who has called them—

Suffer and forbid them not.