Oft Ive Heard My Mother Tell Of A Place


Oft I’ve heard my mother tell
Of a place where angels dwell;
Of a city where there are no tears nor sighs;
Where the streets are pav’d with gold,
And there’s peace and joy untold
In that city bright and fair beyond the skies;
And I know my mother’s there,
In that city bright and fair,
In that beauteous, golden city,
Yes, I know my mother’s there.

On that shining, golden shore,
Bow’d with toil and care, no more,
Lov’d ones gone before us dwell in peace and love;
Angels sweetly carol there,
O the joy and bliss they share
In those mansions, bright and beautiful, above;
And I know my mother’s there,
In that city bright and fair,
With those lov’d ones over yonder,
Yes, I know my mother’s there.

In that wondrous, happy place
Jesus reigns with pow’r and grace,
And His children sing, His praises glad and free;
In that city there’s no night,
For the Saviour is the light,
And His glory shines thro’ all eternity;
And I know my mother’s there,
In that city bright and fair,
With her Saviour in His glory,
Yes, I know my mother’s there.

O my spirit longs for rest,
Fain would lean on Jesus’ breast;
Longs to hear those strains of rapture thrill and air;
Longs for love and joy and peace,
All my cares and sorrows cease
In that happy home with lov’d ones over there:
For I know my mother’s there,
In that city bright and fair,
O my spirit longs for heaven,
For I know my mother’s there.