My latest sun is sinking fast,My race is nearly run;My strongest trials now are past,My triumph is begun.
O come, angel band,Come and around me stand;O bear me away on your snowy wingsTo my eternal home;O bear me away on your snowy wingsTo my eternal home.
I know I’m near the holy ranksOf friends and kindred dear,For I hear the waves on Jordan’s banks,The crossing must be near.
I’ve almost reached my heav’nly home,My spirit loudly sings;Thy holy ones, behold, they come!I hear the noise of wings.
O bear my longing heart to Him,Who bled and died for me;Whose blood now cleanses from all sin,And gives me victory.
When I have finished my journey on earth,Ended my labor of love,When I am waiting for Jesus to say,“Haste to thy mansion above.”
Will they come? Will they come?Say, will the angels come,And to Jesus carry me home?Will they come? Will they come?Say, will the angels come,And to Jesus carry me home?
When I am breathing my latest farewell,Parting from all that is dear,When on my pillow I wearily turn,Say, will the angels be near?
When, as I gaze from the threshold of time,Fainter and fainter the light,Softer and softer the voices I hear,Bidding my spirit good night.
Yes; they will come from the bright, sunny land,Come on their pinions so fair;Jesus will send them its glory to tell,Angels will carry me there.