We speak: of the realms of the Blest, Of that country so bright and so fair; And oft are its glories confess'd; But what must it be to be there?

We speak: of its pathways of gold, Of its walls deck'd with jewels most rare, Its wonders and pleasures untold; But what must it be to be there?

We speak: of its freedom from sin, From all sorrow, temptation, and cares, From trials without and within; But what must it be to be there.

We speak: of its anthems of praise, With which we can never compare, The sweetest on earth we can raise; But what must it be to be there?

We speak: of its service of love, Of the robes which the glorified wear, The church of the First Born above; But what must it be to be there?

Do Thou, Lord, midst pleasure or woe, Still for heaven our spirits prepare; And shortly we also shall know And feel what it is to the there.