How glorious that final age will be,
when all our striving shall cease,
when all His saints shall rest in peace.
How wonderful that final sigh shall be,
when we look upon warless days,
and our rumoring past falls away.
How majestic that day shall be,
When we look upon the glory of the King,
Crowned at freedom’s bells’ ring.
How happy I shall be to sleep,
Time no longer my enemy,
But my friend for all eternity.
Hasten o’God, Lord of my heart;
Bring fast Your dawn of peace!
Let me labor no longer on trifles and scrum,
Let me be nevermore anxious to do and done,
But be content that It Is Done.
From the City on a Hill 