Jerusalem, my happy home,

Name ever dear to me,

When shall my labours have an end

In joy, and peace, and thee?

When shall these eyes thy heaven-built walls

And pearly gates behold?

Thy bulwarks, with salvation strong,

And streets of shining gold?

There happier bowers than Eden's bloom,

Nor sin nor sorrow know:

Blest seats! through rude and stormy scenes

I onward press to you.

Why should I shrink from pain and woe,

Or feel at death dismay?

I've Canaan's goodly land in view,

And realms of endless day.

Apostles, martyrs, prophets, there

Around my Savior stand:

And soon my friends in Christ below

Will join the glorious band.

Jerusalem, my happy home,

My soul still pants for thee;

Then shall my labours have an end,

When I thy joys shall see.