1 There’ll be music in heav’n, we’re told,
That city of pearl and gold;
The ransomed will sing to Jesus the King,
And ages untold new glories unfold.
No sorrow, no care, no death shall be there,
There no one shall ever grow old,
O city of pearl and gold.

2 There’ll be music in heav’n, I know,
That city to which I go;
There storms shall not rise, no clouds mar the skies;
There shall be no pain or withering bane,
But over the soul unending shall roll
The glory of endless delight,
O city where is no night.

3 There’ll be music in heav’n, and we
Shall join in the melody;
There, world without end our voices shall blend
In anthems sublime through eons of time:
Through wonderful grace we’ll look on the face
Of Him who could love and redeem,
O city of which I dream.