A city appears to our view

A city appears to our view,
Where pilgrims will ever reside;
If faithful they prove, and are true,
Will dwell with the Lamb as his bride.
From heaven this city descends,
Above the ethereal blue;
The saints will inhabit it, when
To earth they have all bade adieu.

No sun shall illumine that land,
Nor stars in its galaxy shine;
But order and harmony grand
Will be in each portion sublime.
No darkness shall ever prevail,
But light inexpressible reign;
No demon our rights shall assail,
To mar in that heavenly plain.

The walls of this city are high,
Her light 's like a jasper most clear;
When she falls from the azure blue sky,
She will dwell with the holy who fear.
Its streets are pellucid, fine gold;
No temple, but God and the Lamb,
Our eyes shall there ever behold,
For they are the light of that land.