How far to the Ci­ty of Gold?
The anx­ious pil­grim cries;
How far to jour­ney ere I see
Its tow­ers be­fore me rise?
Tho’ oft­en worn and sad,
Oppressed with grief and care,
Pilgrim, press on a few more steps,
Thy feet are al­most there.

Refrain

Press on, press on,
Where lies thy home so fair;
Pilgrim, press on a few more steps,
Thy feet are al­most there.

How far to the Ci­ty of Gold?
The sad­dened hearts would know,
While mourn­ing o’er the friends they love,
In death’s em­brace laid low;
How long ere saints awake
And pass those por­tals fair?
Hope whis­pers in af­flict­ion’s hour,
Weep not, they’re al­most there.

Refrain

How far to the Ci­ty of Gold?
Where sor­row ne’er shall come—
The pro­mised land of joy and rest,
The saints’ eter­nal home?
The jour­ney long has been,
But home will soon ap­pear;
Each land­mark past pro­claims to us
We’re al­most, al­most there.

Refrain

How far to the Ci­ty of Gold?
Thy wait­ing Church would know;
Each day Thy child­ren up­ward gaze,
Each day more an­xious grow;
Blest Sav­ior, cleave the sky,
And quick­ly, quick­ly come;
We long to see Thy bless­èd face,
And dwell with Thee at home.

Refrain