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207
The Final Conflict and Heaven

III.
A Weary Pilgrim's Song.

8,7,8,7,7,7,7,7

Welt, lebwohl, ich bin dein müde

J. G. Albinus. 1652.

World, farewell! Of thee I'm tired,

Now toward heaven my way I take;

There is peace the long-desired,

Lofty calm that nought can break;

World, with thee is war and strife,

Thou with cheating hopes art rife,

But in heaven is no alloy,

Only peace and love and joy.

When I reach that home of gladness,

I shall feel no more this load,

Feel no sickness, want, or sadness,

Resting in the arms of God.

In the world woes follow fast,

And a bitter death comes last,

But in heaven shall nought destroy

Endless peace and love and joy.

What are earthly joys? a weary

Chase of mist, or wind-borne foam!

In this desert black and dreary

Sins and vices have their home;

208

Thine, O World, are war and strife,

Mocking pleasures, dying life;

But in heaven is no annoy,

Only peace and love and joy.

Oh the music and the singing

Of the host redeem'd by love!

Oh the hallelujahs ringing

Through the halls of light above!

Thine, O World, the scornful sneer,

Misery thy reward, and fear;

But in heaven is no annoy,

Only peace and love and joy.

Here is nought but care and mourning,

Comes a joy, it will not stay;

Fairly shines the sun at dawning,

Night will soon o'ercloud the day;

World, with thee we weep and pine,

Gnawing care and grief are thine;

But in heaven is no alloy,

Only peace and love and joy.

Onwards then! not long I wander,

Ere my Saviour comes for me,

And with Him abiding yonder

All His glory I shall see;

For there's nought but sorrow here,

Toil and pain and many a fear,

But in heaven is no annoy,

Only peace and love and joy.

209

Well for him whom death has landed

Safely on yon blessed shore,

Where in joyful worship banded,

Sing the faithful evermore;

For the world hath strife and war,

All her works and hopes they mar,

But in heaven is no annoy,

Only peace and love and joy.

Time, thou speedest on but slowly,

Hours, how tardy is your pace,

Ere with Him the High and Holy

I hold converse face to face;

World, with partings thou art rife,

Fill'd with tears and storms and strife;

But in heaven can nought destroy

Endless peace and love and joy.

Therefore will I now prepare me,

That my work may stand His doom,

And when all is sinking round me,

I may hear not "Go"--but "Come!"

World, the voice of grief is here,

Outward seeming, care, and fear,

But in heaven is no alloy,

Only peace and love and joy!

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