In his child­ish in­no­cence,
’Mid the mer­ry scenes of home,
With his play­things ly­ing near him on the floor,
Looking up to mo­ther’s eyes,
And in sweet­est ac­cents said,
I’ll not need my lit­tle play­things any more.
For I’m go­ing to live with Je­sus
In that home be­yond the skies,
With its walls be­decked
With jew­els, oh, so rare;
I’ll be watch­ing at the gate
Of the new Je­ru­sa­lem;
Mother dar­ling,
You will find me wait­ing there.

Then the mother stooped to him,
And as on­ly mo­ther could,
Pressed her dar­ling to her bo­som o’er and o’er;
As she fond­ly asked her boy
Why he had so sweet­ly said,
I’ll not need my lit­tle play­things any more.
Would you go and leave your ma­ma
And the loved ones here be­low,
For that ci­ty
With its jew­els bright and fair?
Then she list­ened for his word
As he whis­pered soft and low,
Yes, dear Ma­ma,
But you’ll find me watch­ing there.

Soon the an­gel’s sum­mons came,
And the lit­tle spir­it fled,
Yes, the an­gels bore him to that hap­py shore;
Clad in robes of pur­est white,
An eter­ni­ty to spend,
With no need of earth­ly play­things any more.
Yes, he went to be with Je­sus
In His home be­yond the skies,
With its walls be­decked
With jew­els bright and fair;
He is watch­ing at the gate
Of the new Je­ru­sa­lem,
Yes, the loved ones
They will find him watch­ing there.

When your days on earth are o’er,
And the sum­mons you shall hear,
Will the an­gels bear you to that hap­py land?
Will the ver­dict be well done,
Or de­part for­ev­er­more,
When be­fore the bar of jus­tice you shall stand?
Will you go and live with Je­sus
In that home be­yond the skies,
With its walls be­decked
With jew­els bright and fair?
When the pear­ly gates un­fold
And your loved ones en­ter in,
Sister, bro­ther,
Will they find you watch­ing there?