Jerusalem, Je­ru­sa­lem,
Thou ci­ty ev­er blest,
Within thy por­tals first I find
My safe­ty, peace and rest.
Here dan­gers al­ways threat­en me,
My days in strife are spent,
And la­bor, sor­row, wor­ry, grief,
I find at best their strength.

No won­der, then, that I do long
O bless­èd home, for thee,
Where I shall find a rest­ing place,
From sin and sor­row free;
Where tears and weep­ing are no more,
Nor death, nor pain, nor night,
For for­mer things are passed way,
And dark­ness turned to light.

Now all for me has lost its charm
Which by the world is praised,
Since on the cross, through faith, I saw
My Sav­ior Je­sus raised;
My goal is fixed, one thing I ask,
Whate’er the cost may be,
Jerusalem, Je­ru­sa­lem,
Soon to ar­rive in thee.