The days that glide so swiftly down

the highway of the past

Are filled with many weary hours of pain;

But the love of God grows stronger,

As the waiting hour seems longer,

And though silent be my voice, my longing heart repeat the strain

Nearer, my God to Thee

Nearer to Thee.

Each moment brings me nearer to

the time when I must leave

The scenes of earth that seem so dear to me.

But the sight of home is clearer,

And my hope of heaven dearer

Than the world and all its glory, and its wealth could ever be.

So let the ransomed of the Lord

repeat the song of trust

And ban the harder on the word of God

On its promises abiding

As a refuge, ‘neath it hiding

Travel bravely on the highway that the saints and martyrs trod.