Eggs, Flowers and We are pilgrims looking home

We are pilgrims looking home,
Sad and weary, oft we roam,
But we know ‘twill all be well in the morning;
When, our anchor safely cast,
Ev’ry stormy wave is past,
And we gather safe at last in the morning.

O these tender broken ties,
How they dim our aching eyes,
But like jewels they will shine in the morning;
When our victor palms we bear,
And our robes immortal wear,
We shall know each other there in the morning.

When our fettered souls are free,
Far beyond the narrow sea,
And we hear the Savior’s voice in the morning;
When our golden sheaves we bring
To the feet of Christ our King,
What a chorus we shall sing in the morning.

Thro’ our pilgrim journey here,
Tho’ the night is sometimes drear,
Let us watch and persevere till the morning;
Then our highest tribute raise
For the love that crowns our days,
And to Jesus give the praise in the morning.

Chorus:
When we all meet again in the morning,
On the sweet, blooming hills in the morning;
Never more to say good night
In that sunny region bright,
When we hail the blessed light of the morning.

Lizzie Edwards