Our Fath­er has plant­ed a beau­ti­ful tree,
Whose ev­er­green branch­es His child­ren be­hold;
They walk ’neath its shade in the ci­ty above,
Whose gates are of pearl
And whose streets are of gold.

Refrain

We may eat of the beau­ti­ful tree of life,
That stands in the midst of the ci­ty so fair;
We may eat of its fruit
And be healed with its leaves;
No hun­ger, no sick­ness,
No sor­row is there.

Beside the pure ri­ver of crys­tal it grows,
And yield­eth its fruit ev­ery month, we are told;
Its leaves for the heal­ing of nations de­signed,
The na­tions who dwell
In that ci­ty of gold.

Refrain

The hand of the Sav­ior will wipe ev­ery tear,
And ban­ish for­ev­er the dark­ness of night;
Sweet an­thems eter­nal that re­gion shall fill,
The Lord is its gl­ory,
The Lord is its light.

Refrain