O Land of rest for thee I sigh
When will the moments come
When I shall lay my armour by
And dwell in peace at home

No tranquil joys on earth I know
No peaceful sheltering doom
This world's a wilderness of woe
This world is not my home

To Jesus Christ I sought for rest
He bid me cease to rome
And fly for succore to his breast
And he’ll conduct me home

I would at once have quit the field
When foes with fury foam
But ah my passport was not sealed
I could not yet go home

When by afflictions sharply tried
I view the gaping tomb
Although I dread death's chilling tide
Yet still I sigh for home -- --

Weary of wondering (wandering) round and round
This vale of sin and gloom
I long to quit the unhallowed ground
And dwell with Christ at home --

John Shore
Cats Creek
Nov. 4 - 1836