Jerusalem, thou ci­ty built on high!
Oh that I were in thee:
With full de­sire my heart doth up­ward fly,
Nor long­er rests in me.
Far ov­er dale and mount­ain,
Far o’er the earth’s wide field,
My heart to God as­cend­ing,
Itself to Him doth yield.

O glo­ri­ous ci­ty! thee my spir­it hails:
Unfold thy gates of grace:
With long de­lay my heart with­in me fails,
For you, pure dwell­ing place!
Forth from this day of ev­il
Life which I scarce­ly live,
I seek that land of pro­mise
Which God to me doth give.

The el­ders there and pro­phets’ no­ble band,
And Christ’s whole com­pa­ny,
Who bear the cross’ yoke at His com­mand,
For Him pre­pared to die—
I see in joy­ous free­dom,
And glo­ry sweep­ing by:
All with bright beams sur­round­ed,
As suns they shine on high.

When at the last I thi­ther shall as­cend
To that bright pa­ra­dise,
The joy shall fill my heart that knows no end;
Praise from my lips shall rise.
The blest their hal­le­lu­jahs
In glo­ry there pro­long,
And raise their glad ho­san­nas
In ev­er­last­ing song.