Song of the Exiled Saints

[Tune Sweet Home.]

We are far, far away from the land of our Home, Thus the former-Day Saints, who were driven away,

And like strangers in exile we're destined to roam; And like deer in the fosest [forest] were destined to stray

While our foes were exulting to drive us abroad, Clad in sheep-skins and goat-skins, have wander'd around,

Our faith was unshaken-our hope was in God, Or in "caves and in dens", a lone residence found;

Tho' far from Home, And should they roam,

For we journey'd away from our country and Home. And the Latter Day Saints, rest in quiet at Home.

We were houseless and homeless, in tempest and storm, Now the saints who are faithful, and trust in the Lord,

Yet God was our father-we lean'd on his arm; Where'er they are scattered, go "preaching the word",

And beneath his protection, our lives were secure, And the honest in heart, the glad tidings believe,

And we smil'd at the hardships we had to endure, And with joy and rejoicing the gospel receive

While journeying on, And seek a Home,

To a country of strangers-a land not our Home. With the just of all ages, when Jesus shall Come.

O then, then we remember'd the House of the Lord, And we long for the promis'd redemption to come,

Where the saints met so often, to feast on the word, When the faithful in Jesus, will all gather home,

Pour'd forth in the Spirit, sent down from on high, From the north, from the south from the east and the west,

And our thoughts fondly linger'd on seasons gone by; To partake with the ancients, the great promis'd rest

When at our Home, And Shiloh come,

We enjoy'd with the saints, the rich blessings of Home. And crown with his presence, Mount Zion our Home.

But all those, who the kingdom celestial would gain;

Need not parley with danger, with trouble of pain;

For if Christ was made perfect thro; suffering, shall we

E'er expect in his presence to reign gloriously,

Unless we come

"Up thro' great tribulation", to Zion our Home.

E. R. Snow