Mansion Over the Hilltop
by Ira Stanphill, 1914
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.
Tho' often tempted, tormented and tested,
And like the prophet, my pillow a stone.
And tho 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 discourage, I'm heaven bound.
I'm just a pilgrim in search of that city
I want a mansion, a harp and a crown.
I've got a mansion just over the hilltop,
In that bright land where we'll never grow old.
And some day yonder, We will never more wander,
But walk on streets that are purest gold.