We’re going home, we’ve had visions bright

Of that holy land, that world of light,

Where the long, dark night of time is past,

And the morn of eternity dawns at last;

Where the weary saint no more shall roam,

But dwell in a happy, peaceful home:

Where the brow with sparkling gems is crowned,

And the waves of bliss are flowing round.

O, that beautiful world! O, that beautiful world!

2 We’re going home, we soon shall be,

Where the sky is clear, and all are free:

Where the victor’s song floats o’er the plains,

And the seraph’s anthems blend with its strains;

Where the sun rolls down its brilliant flood,

And beams on a world that is fair and good;

Where stars, once dimmed at nature’s doom,

Will ever shine o’er the new earth’s bloom.

O, that beautiful world! O, that beautiful world!

3 ’Mid the ransomed throng, ’mid the seas of bliss,

’Mid the holy city’s gorgeousness;

’Mid the verdant plains, ’mid angels’ cheer,

’Mid the saints that round the throne appear;

Where the conqueror’s song, as it sounds afar,

Is wafted on the ambrosial air;

Through endless years we then shall prove,

The worth of a Saviour’s matchless love.

O, that beautiful world! O, that beautiful world.