With God’s She­ki­nah glo­ry filled,
Heav’n needs no sun or moon;
As dawn and sun­set join to shine
In bright, un­end­ing noon.

No spin­ning spheres the sea­sons mark,
No ebb of moon-pulled tide,
No pre­cious moment to be lost,
No time to kill or bide.

No ev­en­ing when the flow­ers close,
At loom­ing end of day;
No rush to fin­ish work un­done,
No light that will not stay.

No mid­night watch­man in the street,
Or guard up­on the wall,
The gates of pearl need ne­ver shut,
No foe can there ap­pall.

No roos­ter greets the com­ing sun,
No haste to rise and toil;
No need to wake, for none have slept:
No dread­ed dai­ly moil.

No fleet­ing years, or mis­spent hours,
No ear­ly, late, or speed;
No yes­ter­day, to­mor­row, nor
A ty­rant clock to heed.

No ghosts of past or fu­ture there,
In all that light kissed land;
But end­less joy and peace abound,
Blessed by the great I AM.

No sick beds, ce­me­ter­ies there,
No hearts with grief o’er­come;
No tomb­stones march­ing row by row
To death’s low sound­ing drum.

Time’s dark­ly flow­ing ri­ver now
Is banished from on high;
Before us year­less streams of life:
We have no time to die.