EE
F
18
From" S. Albans' Tune Book permission.
A
Or, Tune 84.
I DAILY, daily sing the praises Of the City God hath made; In the beauteous fields of Eden Its foundation- stones are laid; Oh, that I had wings of angels Here to spread and heavenward fly; I would seek the gates of Sion, Far beyond the starry sky!
2 All the walls of that dear City Are of bright and burnished gold; It is matchless in its beauty, And its treasures are untold. Oh, that I had wings,& c.
9
211
Ed
ਜ਼ਰੂਰੀ
de
3 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. Oh, that I had wings,& c. 4 From the throne a river issues, Clear as crystal, passing bright, And it traverses the City Like a beam of silver light. Oh, that I had wings,& c.
6 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! Oh, that I had wings,& c. Amen
5 There the wind is sweetly fragrant, And is laden with the song Of the Seraphs, and the Elders, And the great redeemed throng. Oh, that I had wings,& c.