Jerusalem the golden,
With
milk and honey blest,
Beneath
thy contemplation
Sink
heart and voice oppressed.
I
know not, O I know not
What
holy joys are there;
What
radiancy of glory,
What
bliss beyond compare.
2
They
stand, those hills of Zion,
All
jubilant with song,
And
bright with many an angel,
And
all the martyr throng.
The
Prince is ever in them,
The
daylight is serene;
The
pastures of the blessed
Are
decked in glorious sheen.
3
There
is the throne of David,
And
there, from care released,
The
shout of them that triumph,
The
song of them that feast;
And
they who, with their Leader,
Have
conquered in the fight,
Forever
and forever
Are
clad in robes of white.
4
O
sweet and blessed country,
The
home of God’s elect!
O
sweet and blessed country,
That
eager hearts expect!
Jesus,
in mercy bring us
To
that dear of rest;
Who
art with God the Father,
And
Spirit, ever blest.