Oh when will the period appear,
When I shall unite in your song?
I’m weary of lingering here,
And I to your Savior belong.
I’m fettered and chained up in clay,
I struggle and pant to be free:
I long to be soaring away,
My God and my Savior to see.
Fain would I make thine heav’n my own,
For this world has been so unkind,
Tho I wander sad and alone,
Soon I shall leave it all behind.