O what their joy and their glory must be,
Those endless sabbaths the blessed ones see;
Crown for the valiant, to weary ones rest;
God shall be all, and in all ever blest.
Truly, "Jerusalem" name we that shore,
"Vision of peace," that brings joy evermore;
Wish and fulfillment can severed be ne'er,
Nor the thing prayed for come short of the prayer.
We, where no trouble distraction can bring,
safely the anthems of Zion shall sing;
While for thy grace, Lord, their voices of praise
Thy blessed people shall evermore raise.
Now, in the meanwhile, with hearts raised on high,
We for that country must yearn and must sigh;
Seeking Jerusalem, dear native land,
Through our long exile on Babylon's strand.
Low before him with our praises we fall,
Of whom, and in whom, and through whom are all;
Of whom, the Father; and in whom, the Son;
Through whom, the Spirit, with these ever One.