1 I love that Holy Scripture,
Where I am truly told
About the heav’nly city,
With walls of precious gold.

2 About the shining river
That goeth through the street—
The boughs of life above it,
With fruit and blossoms sweet.

3 This world is sometimes happy,
With pleasant things I love;
But it must be far, far better
To dwell in Heav’n above.

4 Not that the walls are golden,
The gates are always bright;
Not that the river poureth
Through every street its light.

5 Not that a pleasant music
From golden harps is stirred,
And every sound is sweeter,
Than ear hath ever heard.

6 But there shall never enter
The dark, rude thoughts of sin,
That here are always watching
To come the heart within.

7 And there we shall not find it
So very hard to be
Gentle and true and patient,
For we the Lord shall see.

8 And so we shall grow like Him,
All holy things to love;
O! it must be far, far better
To dwell in Heav’n above!