This is not my place of resting,

Mine a city yet to come;

Onward to it I am hasting—

On to my eternal home.

2 In it, all is light and glory,

O’er it shines a nightless day:

Every trace of sin’s sad story,

All the curse has passed away.

3 There the Lamb, our Shepherd, leads us,

By the streams of life along;

On the freshest pastures feeds us,

Turns our sighing into song.

4 Soon we pass this desert dreary,

Soon we bid farewell to pain;

Never more be sad or weary,

Never, never sin again.