But there they live in such delight, Such pleasure and such play, That unto them a thousand years Seems but as yesterday.

O my sweet home, Jerusalem!
Thy joys when shall I see-
Thy King sitting upon His throne,
And thy felicity?

Thy vineyards, and thy orchards,

So wonderfully rare,

Are furnished with all kinds of fruit, Most beautifully fair.

Thy gardens, and thy goodly walks,

Continually are green;

There grow such sweet and pleasant flowers
As nowhere else are seen.
There cinnamon and sugar grow,

There nard and balm abound;

No tongue can tell, no heart can think,
The pleasures there are found.

There nectar and ambrosia spring

There music's ever sweet;
There many a fair and dainty thing

Are trod down under feet.

Quite through the streets, with pleasant sound,

The flood of life doth flow;

Upon the banks, on every side,

The trees of life do grow..

These trees each month yield ripened fruit

For evermore they spring;
And all the nations of the world

To thee their honors bring.
Jerusalem, God's dwelling place
Full sore I long to see;
O that my sorrows had an end,
That I might dwell in thee!

There David stands, with harp in hand,
As master of the choir;

A thousand times that man were blest
That might his music hear.
There Mary sings "Magnificat,"

With tunes surpassing sweet;
And all the virgins bear their part,
Singing about her feet.

"Te Deum" doth St. Ambrose sing,

St. Austin doth the like;

Old Simeon and Zacharie

Have not their songs to seek.
There Magdalene hath left her moan,
And cheerfully doth sing,
With all blest saints whose harmony
Through every street doth ring.
Jerusalem! Jerusalem!

Thy joys fain would I see;

Come quickly, Lord, and end my grief,
And take me home to Thee!

O paint Thy name on my forehead,
And take me hence away,

That I may dwell with Thee in bliss,
And sing Thy praises aye.

Jerusalem, the happy home-
Jehovah's throne on high!

O sacred city, queen, and wife
Of Christ eternally!

O comely queen with glory clad,
With honor and degree,

All fair thou art, exceeding bright-
No spot there is in thee!

I long to see Jerusalem,

The comfort of us all;

For thou art fair and beautiful-
None ill can thee befall.
In thee, Jerusalem, I say,

No darkness dare appear-
No night, no shade, no winter foul-
No time doth alter there.

No candle needs, no moon to shine,
No glittering star to light;

For Christ, the King of Righteousness,
For ever shineth bright.

A Lamb unspotted, white and pure,
To thee doth stand in lieu
Of light-so great the glory is
Thine Heavenly King to view.
He is the King of kings, beset

In midst His servants' sight;
And they, His happy household all,
Do serve Him day and night.
There, there the choir of angels sing—
There the supernal sort

Of citizens, which hence are rid

From dangers deep, do sport.

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