Classic Poem

I hear them tell of a wondrous country,
A land of pure delight
Where summer suns are forever shining,
And never there falleth night;
I hear that within that dominion fair,
A city immortal stands,
A city whose beauty is yet untold,
A city not built with hands.
I hear them tell of a risen Saviour,
A mighty King of kings,
The builder of that immortal city, —
The world with his glory rings;
They tell me that he has prepared for all
A place in that land so fair,
And sends down a full invitation, too,
That all may be present there.
O brother, let us believe the story
That comes to me and you,
Its truth appears in the stars of heaven,
And shines from the pearly dew;
That country's the home of immortal souls,
That city's the throne of love,
That king is the Saviour who shed his blood,
To build us that home above.

Blessed city, lovely city,
City in a world so fair,
Blessed city, lovely city,
Brother, may we one and all meet there, ...
May we one and all meet there ...
Blessed city, lovely city, meet there, meet there.