Jerusalem

Jerusalem, my happy home,O how I long for thee!When will my sorrows have an end,Thy joys when shall I see?

Thy walls are all of precious stone,Most glorious to behold;Thy gates are richly set with pearl,Thy streets are paved with gold.

Thy garden and thy pleasant walksMy study long have been;Such dazzling views by human sightHave never yet been seen.

If heaven be thus glorious, Lord,Why should I stay from thence.What folly's this that I should dreadTo die, and go from hence.

Reach down, O Lord, thine arm of grace,And cause me to ascend,Where congregations ne'er break up,And Sabbaths never end.

When we've been there ten thousand years,Bright shining as the sun,We've no less days to sing God's praiseThan when we first begun.