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I JERUSALEM the golden, With milk and honey blest, Beneath thy contemplation Sink heart and voice opprest. I know not, oh, I know not What joys await us there, What radiancy of glory, What bliss beyond compare.
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2 They stand, those halls of Sion, All jubilant with song, And bright with many an Angel, And all the Martyr throng; The Prince is ever in them, The daylight is serene: The pastures of the blessed Are decked in glorious sheen.
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3 There is the throne of David; And there, from care released, The shout of them that triumph, The song of them that feast; And they, who with their Leader, Have conquered in the fight, For ever and for ever
Are clad in robes of white.
4 O sweet and blessèd country, The home of God's elect! O sweet and blessèd country, That eager hearts expect! Jesu, in mercy bring us
To that dear land of rest; Who art, with God the Father And Spirit, ever Blest. Amea.