There’s joy in Heaven, thrilling joy,
Whene’er a sinner turns;
Then with a holy ecstasy,
The tallest seraph burns:
Through all the shining courts of bliss,
The joyful news is borne,
And thousand angel voices shout,
The wanderer’s return.
There’s light, effulgent light in Heav’n
It radiates from the throne,
And bright reflects from golden streets
And walls of precious stone:
Ten thousand times ten thousand stars,
And suns by scores untold,
Could ne’er emit such glorious light,
As there the saints behold.
There’s rest in Heaven, calm repose,
From pain and toil and care:
And there the weary shall enjoy
A peace beyond compare.
A tranquil quiet, calm and deep,
A sea without a shore,
An ocean vast, of bliss, that shall
Endure for evermore.
There’s music, heav’nly music, there
Ten thousand harps of gold
Are tuned and touched by angel hands,
To measures sweet and bold:
Twelve thousand times twelve thousand souls
Of their redemption sing;
And louder yet, rank after rank,
Redemption’s anthems ring.
They sing the wondrous love of God,
That saved a sinful race;
And thousand thousand angel choirs,
Take up the notes of praise:
And ransomed souls, a countless host,
They echo swelling songs,
Of honor, pow’r, and love to Him,
To whom all praise belongs.