ANONYMOUS – HIERUSALEM , MY HAPPY HOME

HIERUSALEM, my happy home,

When shall I come to thee?

When shall my sorrows have an end

Thy joys when shall I see?

O happy harbour of the saints,

O sweet and pleasant soil

In thee no sorrow may be found

No grief, no care, no toil……

No dampish mist is seen in thee,

Nor cold nor darksome night;

There every soul shines as the sun,

There God himself gives light.

There lust and lucre cannot dwell,

There envy bears no sway;

There is no hunger, heat nor cold,

But pleasure every way.

Hierusalem, Hierusalem,

God grant I once may see

Thy endless joys, and of the same

Partaker aye to be

Thy walls are made of precious stones,

Thy bulwarks diamonds square;

Thy gates are of right orient pearl,

Exceeding rich and rare

Thy turrets and thy pinnacles

With carbuncles do shine;

Thy very streets are paved with gold,

Surpassing clear and fine

Thy houses are of ivory,

Thy windows crystal clear,

Thy tiles are made of beaten gold,

O God, that I were there

Within thy gates nothing doth come

That is not passing clean;

No spider’s web, no dirt, no dust,

No filth may there be seen

Ah, my sweet home, Hierusalem,

Would God I were in thee!

Would God my woes were at an end,

Thy joys that I might see!  …

Thy gardens and thy gallant walks

Continually are green;

There grows such sweet and pleasant flowers

As nowhere else are seen…..

Quite through the streets with silver sound

The flood of life doth flow;

Upon whose banks on every side

The wood of life doth grow

There trees for evermore bear fruit

And evermore do spring;

There evermore the angels sit

And evermore do sing.

There David stands with harp in hand

As master of the Quire;

Ten thousand times that man were blest

That might this music hear

Our Lady sings Magnificat

With tune surpassing sweet;

And all the virgins bear their parts

Sitting about her feet

Te Deum doth saint Ambrose sing,

Saint Austin doth the like;

Old Simeon and Zachary

Have not their songs to seek

There Magdalen hath left her moan

And cheerfully doth sing,

With blessed saints whose harmony

In every street doth ring.

Hierusalem, my happy home,

Would God I were in thee!

Would God my woes were at an end,

Thy joys that I might see!