I. Stamphill

I’M satisfied with just a cottage below,

A little silver and a little gold,

But in that city where the ransomed will shine,

I want a gold one that’s silver lined.

I’ve got a mansion just over the hilltop,

In that bright land where we’ll never grow old:

But some day yonder we will nevermore wander;

But walk the streets that are purest gold.


Though often tempted, tormented and tested

And, like the prophet, my pillow a stone,

And though I find here no permanent dwelling,

I know He’ll give me a mansion my own.


Don’t think me poor or deserted or lonely,

I’m not discouraged, I’m heaven bound,

I’m just a pilgrim in search of a city,

I want a mansion, a harp and crown.


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