Jerusalem The Golden With Milk

Jerusalem The Golden,
With Milk And Honey Blest,
Beneath Thy Contemplation
Sink Heart And Voice Oppressed.
I Know Not, Ah, I Know Not
What Joys Await Us There,
What Radiancy Of Glory,
What Bliss Beyond Compare.

They Stand, Those Halls Of Zion,
All Jubilant With Song,
And Bright With Many Angels,
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.

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 Fully Run The Race,
Are Robed In White For Ever
Before Their Saviour’s Face.

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 Land Of Rest;
Who Art, With God The Father
And Spirit, Ever Blest.