I would not live alway; I ask not to stay,
Where storm after storm rises dark on the way;
The few lucid mornings that dawn on us here,
They are followed by gloom or beclouded with fear.

I would not live alway; thus fettered by sin,
Temptations without and corruption within;
E'en the rapture of pardon is mingled with fears,
And the cup of thanksgiving with penitent tears.

Who, who would live alway, away from his God,
Away from yon heaven, that blissful abode?
Where rivers of pleasure flow o'er the bright plains,
And the noontide of glory eternally reigns.

There saints of all ages in harmony meet
Their Savior and brethren transported to greet;
While anthems of pleasure unceasingly roll,
And the smile of the Lord is the feast of the soul.