1 Thy saints are crowned with glory great;
They see God face to face;
They triumph still, they still rejoice
Most happy is their case.
2 We that are here in banishment
Continually do mourn:
We sigh and sob, we weep and wail,
Perpetually we groan.
3 Our sweet is mixed with bitter gall,
Our pleasure is but pain:
Our joys scarce last the looking on,
Our sorrows still remain.
4 But there they live in such delight,
Such pleasure and such play,
As that to them a thousand years
Doth seem as yesterday.
5 Thy vineyards and thy orchards are
Most beautiful and fair,
Full furnished with trees and fruits,
Most wonderful and rare.
6 Thy gardens and thy gallant walks
Continually are green:
There grow such sweet and pleasant flowers
As nowhere else are seen.
7 There is nectar and ambrosia made,
There is musk and civet sweet;
There many a fair and dainty drug
Is trodden under feet.
8 There cinnamon, there sugar grows,
Here nard and balm abound.
What tongue can tell or heart conceive
The joys that there are found?
Source: Small Church Music #6147