This world is not my final home;
I am a foreign exile here,
But though far from my land I roam,
I’ll yet invest within this sphere.
I’ll plant a crop and take a spouse,
I’ll vote for laws that serve this land;
Before I’m home I’ll have a house
And all these things are from God’s hand.
Yet, soul, take heed, your comfort find
Not in the fleeting things of earth,
But in your heavenly lot assigned:
A home to share your Savior’s mirth.