There’s a ci­ty that is far, far away;
You can see its sil­ver spires o’er the sea;
’Tis be­yond the roll­ing waves’ mis­ty spray;
Oh, that ci­ty is for you and for me.

Refrain

Oh that home, hap­py home,
Where the cy­cles of eter­ni­ty roll,
There no sor­rows, sin nor death e’er shall come,
For that ci­ty is the home of the soul.

We will hear the an­gels sing ov­er there,
As they hold with­in their hands harps of gold,
In that ci­ty that is bright and so fair;
Oh, that ci­ty is the home of the soul.

Refrain

There the tree of life will bloom ev­er­more,
While the cy­cles of eter­ni­ty roll,
And no sick­ness, pain or death we shall know,
For that ci­ty is the home of the soul.

Refrain

All the pil­grims of the earth, I am told,
Who have suf­fered for their Lord on the way,
Will re­ceive a shin­ing crown, made of gold,
In that ci­ty that is far, far away.

Refrain