“Heaven’s Nice”

I sing of Heav’n

that world of light

Beyond the az­ure skies

Where nev­er comes the gloom of night

Where grand­est glo­ries rise.

O

Heav­en’s nice! I know it is

All beau­ti­ful and fair;

Brighter

bet­ter world than this

And I’ve a man­sion there.

That Heav­en must be nice in­deed—

No sor­row

pain

nor care

Nor death

shall cast a blight­ing shade—

No sin can en­ter there.

The heav’n­ly city I behold

In gran­deur bright and clear

With pear­ly gates and streets of gold

And walls of jew­els rare.

There

shin­ing ranks of an­gels stand

And child­ren there I see—

O

what a bright se­raph­ic band!

When will they come for me?

Some day

on ra­di­ant wing

they’ll come

And bear me to the skies

To join them in their hap­py home

And prove that Heav­en’s nice.