No troubles there will mar our peace,
Our pleasures there will never cease;
No tears of grief will dim our eyes,
In that bright land beyond the skies.
Beautiful land with streets of gold,
Thy splendors half can ne’er be told;
When shall my soul to thee arise—
Jehovah’s throne beyond the skies.
This life is but a troubled dream;
When shall I cross cold Jordan’s stream?