O Beautiful hills of Galilee!
Amid whose scenes the Saviour dwells,
Your flow'rs that bloom so beautifully,
Of heaven's lasting beauties tell.
We're travelling home; one by one,
Across death's river our friends are gone,
And we are following, one by one.
"Then, O poor soul, if you would be
Thus clothed in robes as pure as they,
Lay all else down, come follow me;
My love shall last through endless day."
My soul replies, "'T is not for me,"
With tears fast streaming from mine eyes;
That voice still calls, "Come, follow me,
We're going home beyond the skies.
"I come you maladies to heal,
I left my Father's home on high;
His wondrous love I thus reveal
And thus are trembling souls brought nigh.
"I go away--I'll come again,
My Holy Spirit hov'ring round,
To show that for you I was slain,
And guard you till the trump shall sound.