1 This is not my place of resting;
Mine’s a city yet to come;
Onwards to it I am hasting—
On to my eternal home.

2 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.

3 There the Lamb, our shepherd, leads us
By the streams of life along;
On the freshest pastures feeds us,
Turns our sighing into song.

4 Soon we pass this desert dreary,
Soon we bid farewell to pain;
Never more be sad or weary,
Never, never sin again.