Jerusalem, My Happy Home

Jerusalem

my hap­py home!

Name ev­er dear to me;

When shall my la­bors 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 at 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 la­bors have an end

When I thy joys shall see.

O Christ do Thou my soul pre­pare

For that bright home of love;

That I may see Thee and ad­ore

With all Thy saints ab­ove.