I shall see his toys and his empty chair,
And the horse he used to ride;
And they will speak with a silent speech,
Of the little boy that died.
We shall go home to our Father’s house—
To our Father’s house in the skies,
Where the hopes of our souls shall have no blight,
Or love no broken ties.
We shall roam on the banks of the river of peace,
And bathe in its blissful tide;