O Happy Day, When Saints Shall Meet

 

O Happy Day, When Saints Shall Meet

O! Happy day, when saints shall meet
To part no more—the thought is sweet;
No more to feel the rending smart,
Oft felt below, when Christians part.

O happy place I still must say,
Where all but love is done away;
All cause of parting there is past;
Their social feast will ever last.

Such union here is sought in vain,
As there, in every heart, will reign;
There separations can’t compel
The saints to bid the sad farewell.

On earth, when friends together meet,
And find the passing moments sweet;
Time’s rapid motions soon compel,
With grief to say, Dear friends, farewell.

The shepherd feels the smarting shock,
Of parting from his weeping flock;
His feelings for them, none can tell,
When forced to say, My friends, farewell.

The happy season soon will come,
When saints shall meet in Heaven, their home;
Eternally with Christ to dwell,
Nor ever hear the sound, Farewell.

Words: David Barnard, (1681-1770)