Far, far away, o’er the silent sea,
Far off, on that shining shore,
There standeth a city, we long to be
Within it for evermore.
O beautiful home! where the bright ones roam,
Where they drink of the stream of life,
We long to be there, where they know no care,
Where there cometh no sound of strife.
O city of God! it is builded fair,
On high, on the holy hill;
Nor sinning, nor sorrow can enter there,
For there do they do His will.
Fair city, it tow’reth the skies above,
Its glories no tongue may tell;
‘Tis there in the light of the Savior’s love,
The purified people dwell.
O Zion, blest Zion, it standeth sure,
Its beauties may not wax old;
The walls they are all of the jasper pure,
Its streets of the glitt’ring gold.
Thos. L.M. Tipton/E.H. Bailey