I stood at the window one evening
As the sun was sinking low,
And the shadows a mantle were weaving
To cover the earth below,
And the crimson gates of the west
Were flooded with amber and gold,
A gleam of the home of the blest,
Whose glories to us are untold.

And I wondered if the bright angels,
When they bore our loved ones away
To the beautiful home o'er the river,
Where life is an endless day,
Passed through those clouds bright and golden
As they went to the land of the blest
If Heaven lies just over yonder,
Near the golden gates of the west.