The stately mansion riseth beneath the builder’s hand,
When our children sleep in dust that mansion still may stand;
But a nobler and more lasting dwelling to the saints is given,
In a house not made with hands, eternal in the Heaven.
The poor in spirit and the meek, the merciful and pure,
On them the Saviour blessings breathed, for ever to endure;
Those persecuted for His sake, from friends or kindred driven,
Share a house not made with hands, eternal in the Heaven.
And those who deeply mourn their sins shall find there yet is room,