There’s A Holy And Beautiful City
Whose Builder And Ruler Is God;
John Saw It Descending From Heaven,
When Patmos, In Exile, He Trod;
Its High, Massive Wall Is Of Jasper,
The City Itself Is Pure Gold;
And When My Frail Tent Here Is Folded,
Mine Eyes Shall Its Glory Behold.

In That Bright City, Pearly White City,
I Have A Mansion, A Harp, And A Crown;
Now I Am Watching, Waiting, And Longing,
For The White City That’s Soon Coming Down.

No Sin Is Allowed In That City
And Nothing Defiling Or Mean;
No Pain And No Sickness Can Enter,
No Crepe On The Doorknob Is Seen;
Earth’s Sorrows And Cares Are Forgotten,
No Tempter Is There To Annoy;
No Parting Words Ever Are Spoken,
There’s Nothing To Hurt Or Destroy.

No Heartaches Are Known In That City,
No Tears Ever Moisten The Eyes;
There’s No Disappointment In Heaven,
No Envy And Strife In The Sky;
The Saints Are All Sanctified Wholly,
They Live In Sweet Harmony There;
My Heart Is Now Set On That City,
And Some Day Its Blessings I’ll Share.

My Loved Ones Are Gathering Yonder,
My Friends Too Are Passing Away,
And Soon I Shall Join Their Bright Number,
And Dwell In Eternity’s Day;
They’re Safe Now In Glory With Jesus,
Their Trials And Battles Are Past.
They Overcame Sin And The Tempter,
They’ve Reached That Fair City At Last.

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