Jerusalem the
golden, with milk
and honey blest,
Beneath thy
contemplation
sink heart and
voice oppressed.
I know not, O I
know not, what
joys await us
there,
What radiancy of
glory, what bliss
beyond compare.
They stand, those
halls of Zion,
all jubilant with
song,
And bright with
many an angel,
and all the
martyr throng;
The Prince is
ever in them, the
daylight is
serene.
The pastures of
the blessèd are
decked in
glorious sheen.
There is the
throne of David,
and there, from
care released,
The shout of them
that triumph, the
song of them that
feast;
And they, who
with their
Leader, have
conquered in the
fight,
Forever and
forever are clad
in robes of
white.
O sweet and
blessèd country,
the home of God’s
elect!
O sweet and
blessèd country,
that eager hearts
expect!
Jesus, in mercy
bring us to that
dear land of
rest,
Who art, with God
the Father, and
Spirit, ever
blessed.
Brief life is
here our portion,
brief sorrow,
short lived care;
The life that
knows no ending,
the tearless
life, is there.
O happy
retribution!
Short toil,
eternal rest;
For mortals and
for sinners, a
mansion with the
blest.
That we should
look, poor
wanderers, to
have our home on
high!
That worms should
seek for
dwellings beyond
the starry sky!
And now we fight
the battle, but
then shall wear
the crown
Of full and
everlasting, and
passionless
renown.
And how we
watch and
struggle, and now
we live in hope,
And Zion in her
anguish with
Babylon must
cope;
But he whom now
we trust in shall
then be seen and
known,
And they that
know and see Him
shall have Him
for their own.
For thee, O
dear, dear
country, mine
eyes their vigils
keep;
For very love,
beholding, thy
happy name, they
weep:
The mention of
thy glory is
unction to the
breast,
And medicine in
sickness, and
love, and life,
and rest.
O one, O only
mansion! O
paradise of joy!
Where tears are
ever banished,
and smiles have
no alloy;
The cross is all
thy splendor, the
Crucified thy
praise,
His laud and
benediction thy
ransomed people
raise.
Jerusalem the
glorious! Glory
of the elect!
O dear and future
vision that eager
hearts expect!
Even now by faith
I see thee, even
here thy walls
discern;
To thee my
thoughts are
kindled, and
strive, and pant,
and yearn.
Jerusalem, the
only, that
look’st from
heaven below,
In thee is all my
glory, in me is
all my woe!
And though my
body may not, my
spirit seeks thee
fain,
Till flesh and
earth return me
to earth and
flesh again.
Jerusalem,
exulting on that
securest shore,
I hope thee, wish
thee, sing thee,
and love thee
evermore!
I ask not for my
merit: I seek not
to deny
My merit is
destruction, a
child of wrath am
I.
But yet with
faith I venture
and hope upon the
way,
For those
perennial
guerdons I labor
night and day.
The best and
dearest Father
Who made me, and
Who saved,
Bore with me in
defilement, and
from defilement
laved.
When in His
strength I
struggle, for
very joy I leap;
When in my sin I
totter, I weep,
or try to weep:
And grace, sweet
grace celestial,
shall all its
love display,
And David’s royal
fountain purge
every stain away.
O sweet and
blessèd country,
shall I ever see
thy face?
O sweet and
blessèd country,
shall I ever win
thy grace?
I have the hope
within me to
comfort and to
bless!
Shall I ever win
the prize itself?
O tell me, tell
me, Yes!
Strive, man,
to win that
glory; toil, man,
to gain that
light;
Send hope before
to grasp it, till
hope be lost in
sight.
Exult, O dust and
ashes, the Lord
shall be thy
part:
His only, His
forever thou
shalt be, and
thou art.
