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Hymn 597
Jerusalem on high
Jerusalem on high.
My song and city is.
My home whene'er I die.
The centre of my bliss.
Oh happy place! when shall I be.
My God, with Thee, to see Thy face?
There dwells my Lord, my King,
Judged here unfit to live;
There angels to Him sing.
And lowly homage give.
The patriarchs of old,
There from their travels cease;
The prophets there behold
Their long'd for Prince of Peace.
The Lamb's apostles there
I might with joy behold;
The harpers I might hear
Harping on harps of gold.
The bleeding martyrs they.
Within those courts are found;
All clothed in pure array
Their scars with glory crown'd.
. Ah, woe is me, that I
In Kedar's tents here stay;
No place like that on high;
Lord, thither guide my way.
Christly Living