1 Daily, daily sing the praises
Of the City God hath made;
In the beauteous fields of Eden
Its foundation-stones are laid,

2 In the midst of that dear City
Christ is reigning on his seat,
And the angels swing their censers
In a ring about his feet.

3 From the throne a river issues,
Clear as crystal, passing bright,
And it traverses the City
Like a sudden beam of light.

4 There the wind is sweetly fragrant
And is laden with the song
Of the seraphs, and the elders,
And the great redeemed throng.

5 Oh, I would my ears were open
Here to catch that happy strain!
Oh, I would my eyes some vision
Of that Eden could attain!