Of the city fair with its golden gates
All radiant with heavenly light.
We have heard of the angels there, and saints
With their golden harps, how they sing,
And the mount, with the fruitful tree of life,
And the leaves that healing bring.
3 There are beautiful birds in the bowers green,
Their songs are blythe and sweet,
Their warbling gushing ever new,
The angel harpers greet.