Jerusalem, my happy home, Name ever dear to me! When shall my labours have an end, In joy, and peace, and thee? When shall these eyes thy heav'n-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, prophets, martyrs there, Around my Saviour 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 labours have an end When I thy joys shall see.