Indexes for The Sacred Harp, 2025 Edition

While trav’ling through the world below,
Where sore afflictions come,
My soul abounds with joy to know
That I will rest at home.

[chorus]
Carry me home,
When my life is o’er;
Then carry me to my long-sought home,
Where pain is felt no more.

My soul’s delight has been to sing
Of glorious days to come,
When I shall, with my God and King,
Forever rest at home.

Yes, when my eyes are closed in death,
My body cease to roam,
I’ll bid farewell to all below,
And meet my friends at home.

My ceaseless pleasure then shall be,
Through endless days to come,
To sing that Jesus died for me
And range my peaceful home.

And then I want these lines to be
Inscribed upon my tomb,
“Here lies the dust of S. R. P.,
His spirit sings at home.”