Jerusalem On High, My Song That City Is,
My Home Whenever I Die, The Center Of My Bliss;
O Happy Place! When Shall I Be,
My God, With Thee, To See Thy Face?
There Dwells My Lord, My King, Judged Here Unfit To Live;
There Angels To Him Sing And Lowly Homage Give;
O Happy Place! When Shall I Be,
My God, With Thee, To See Thy Face?
The Patriarchs Of Old There From Their Travels Cease;
The Prophets There Behold Their Longed For Prince Of Peace;
O Happy Place! When Shall I Be,
My God, With Thee, To See Thy Face?
The Lamb’s Apostles There I Might With Joy Behold,
The Harpers I Might Hear Harping On Harps Of Gold;
O Happy Place! When Shall I Be,
My God, With Thee, To See Thy Face?
The Bleeding Martyrs, They Within Those Courts Are Found,
Clothed In Pure Array, Their Scars With Glory Crowned;
O Happy Place! When Shall I Be,
My God, With Thee, To See Thy Face?
Ah Me! Ah Me! That I In Kedar’s Tent Here Stay;
No Place Like That On High; Lord Thither Guide My Way;
O Happy Place! When Shall I Be,
My God, With Thee, To See Thy Face?
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