Meet Me Over There.

Meet Me Over There.
457.2

A little child was dying.
And called her father near.
And, on hias arm reclining.
She whispered in his ear:

Chorus-
I going home to glory,
A golden crown to wear.
Oh, meet me, meet me,
Meet me over there.

The angels came and took her.
The angels God had rent.
They bore her up to heaven:
She whispered as she went:
Chorus.

The father was no Christian.
His sins were unforgiven;
He could not, as she begged him,
Rejoin her up in heaven.
Chorus.

He gave his heart to Jesus,
Who took its stains away.
And now in Christ believing.
The father, too, can say:
Chorus.

That voice is still appealing,
“Oh, meet me over there
To us it is a summons
For heaven to prepare.
Chorus

Soon we shall pass life’s portais,
Soon we shall fade and die:
In our departing moments
May we exultant cry:
Chorus.