I love to sing of Heav’n,
Where white robed angels are;
Where many a friend is gathered safe
From fear, and toil, and care.

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There’ll be no sorrow there,
There’ll be no sorrow there;
In Heav’n above, where all is love,
There’ll be no sorrow there.

I love to think of Heav’n,
Where my Redeemer reigns;
Where rapturous songs of triumph rise,
In endless, joyous strains.

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I love to think of Heav’n,
That promised land so fair;
Oh, how my raptured spirit longs
To be forever there.

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