Will it be the glory bright
Of those realms of endless light?
Streets all paved with crystal gold,
Gates of pearl of price untold,
Harps, and thrones, and diadems,
Palaces, and costly gems?
All, and more than this, is given,
But 'tis not the “joy of heaven."
One there is, and One alone,
Every ransomed saint will own
As the central fount of bliss;
Heaven were empty without this.
Jesus, Lamb of God, Thou art
Now the center of my heart;
While by faith Thy face I see,
While I live and feed on Thee
E'en in this sad, weary waste,
Often heavenly joys I taste:
Thou the joy of joys wilt be,
Of my heaven's eternity.