The sun above us gleaming

Is not the sun for me;

Though joyful be his beaming,

And beautiful to see;

There is a Sun of Righteousness

Who cheers and saves me by his grace,

All copious on me streaming,

O that’s the Sun for me.

2 The kings and lords of nations,

Are not the kings for me;

Too low their highest stations;

Too mean their dignity:

The King of kings and Lord of lords,

Almighty in his ways and words,

The word of his salvation,

O that’s the king for me.

3 This house of death and mourning

Is not the house for me,

Where all to dust are turning,

In tears and agony;

But there’s a house not made with hands,

It ever stood and ever stands,

Beyond the world’s last burning;

O that’s the house for me.

4 The wars the hero fights in,

Are not the wars for me;

The war my heart delights in,

Shall end in victory;

’Tis not a war of flesh and blood;

I fight for heaven, I fight for God,

A kingdom with my rights in,—

O that’s the war for me.

5 This land of sin and sorrow,

Is not the land for me,

Where anguish oft I borrow

From dying company;

Th’ immortal land is far away,

I’ll enter it on some bright day,

That day may be to-morrow—

O that’s the land for me.