What must it be to be there?

WE speak of the realms of the blest— That country so bright and so fair; And oft are its glories confess'd: But what must it be to be there?

We speak of its pathways of gold— Its walls, decked with jewels so rare— Its wonders and pleasures untold; But what must it be to be there?

We speak of its freedom from sin, From sorrow, temptation, and care, From trials without and within; But what must it be to be there?

We speak of its service of love— The robes which the glorified wear— The church of the first-born above; But what must it be to be there?

O Lord, amidst gladness or woe, For heaven our spirits prepare; And shortly we also shall know And feel what it is to be there.