In thee no sickness is at all,
No hurt, nor any sore;
There is no death nor ugly night,
But life for evermore.
No dimming cloud o'ershadows thee,
No cloud nor darksome night,
But every soul shines as the sun--
For God himself gives light.
There lust and lucre cannot dwell,
There envy bears no sway;
There is no hunger, thirst, nor heat.
But pleasures every way.
Jerusalem! Jerusalem!
Would God I were in thee!
Oh! that my sorrows had an end,
Thy joys that I might see!
No pains, no pangs, no grieving griefs,
No woful night is there;
No sigh, no sob, no cry is heard--
No well-away, no fear.
Jerusalem the city is
Of God our king alone;
The Lamb of God, the light thereof,
Sits there upon His throne.
O God! that I Jerusalem
With speed may go behold!
For why? the pleasures there abound
Which here cannot be told.
Thy turrets and thy pinnacles
With carbuncles do shine--
With jasper, pearl, and chrysolite,
Surpassing pure and fine.
Thy houses are of ivory,
Thy windows crystal clear,
Thy streets are laid with beaten gold--
There angels do appear.
Thy walls are made of precious stone,
Thy bulwarks diamond square,
Thy gates are made of orient pearl--
O God! if I were there!
Within thy gates no thing can come
That is not passing clean;
No spider's web, no dirt, nor dust,
No filth may there be seen.
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