Jerusalem, my happy home,
Oh, how I long for thee!
When will my sorrow have an end?
Thy joy when shall I see?

Thy walls are all of precious stone,
Most glor'ous to behold;
Thy gates are richly set with pearls;
Thy streets are paved with gold.

Thy garden and thy pleasant green,
My study long have been;
Such sparkling light by human sight
Has never yet been seen.

If heav'n be thus so glor'ous, Lord,
Why should I stay from thence?
What folly 'tis that I should dread
To die and go from hence!

Home, sweet home, my long-sought home,
My home in heav'n above!