1 O what their joy and their glory must be,
Those endless Sabbaths the blesséd ones see!
Crowns for the valiant, to weary ones rest;
God shall be all and in all ever blest.

2 Truly Jerusalem name we that shore,
Visions of peace that brings joy evermore;
Wish and fufillment can sever'd be ne'er,
Nor the thing prayed for come short of the prayer.

3 There, where no troubles distraction can bring,
We the sweet anthems of Zion shall sing;
While for Thy grace, Lord, their voices of praise
Your blesséd people eternally raise.

4 There dawns no Sabbath, no Sabbath is o'er,
Those Sabbath-keepers have one evermore;
One and unending is that triumph-song
Which to the angels and us shall belong.

5 Now, in the meanwhile, with hearts raised on high,
We for that country must yearn and must sigh;
Seeking Jerusalem, dear native land,
Through our long exile on Babylon's strand.

6 Low before Him with our praises we fall,
Of Whom, and in Whom, and through Whom are all;
Of Whom, the Father; and in Whom, the Son;
Through Whom, the Spirit, with Them ever One.