This is not my place of resting

This is not my place of resting;Mine 's a city yet to come;Onward, to it, I am hastening,—On to my eternal home.In it, all is light and glory;O'er it shines a nightless day;Every trace of sin's sad story,All the curse has passed away.

There the Lamb, our Shepherd, leads usBy the streams of life along;On the freshest pastures feeds us,Turns our sighing into song.Soon we pass this desert dreary,Soon we bid farewell to pain;Nevermore are sad and weary,Never, never sin again.