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James Whitcomb Riley

(7 October 1849 - 22 July 1916 / Greenfield, Indiana)

Out Of The Hitherwhere


Out of the hitherwhere into the Yon--
The land that the Lord's love rests upon;
Where one may rely on the friends he meets,
And the smiles that greet him along the streets:
Where the mother that left you years ago
Will lift the hands that were folded so,
And put them about you, with all the love
And tenderness you are dreaming of.

Out of the hitherwhere into the Yon--
Where all of the friends of your youth have gone,--
Where the old schoolmate that laughed with you,
Will laugh again as he used to do,
Running to meet you, with such a face
As lights like a moon the wondrous place
Where God is living, and glad to live,
Since He is the Master and may forgive.

Out of the hitherwhere into the Yon!--
Stay the hopes we are leaning on--
You, Divine, with Your merciful eyes
Looking down from the far-away skies,--
Smile upon us, and reach and take
Our worn souls Home for the old home's sake.--
And so Amen,--for our all seems gone
Out of the hitherwhere into the Yon.

Submitted: Friday, April 09, 2010

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