To the fair shores of Eden, 
My soul longs to fly; 
And to drink from the fountain 
That never runs dry; 
Where the angels are singing 
The same precious story; 
That ever resound 
Through the bright hills of glory. 

Chorus: 
O take me my Saviour, 
To join the happy song, 
In the bright hills of glory, 
Where the angels belong, bright hills of glory 
Where angles belong. 

Oh! what visions of beauty 
Will burst on my sight; 
As I enter the mansions 
Of heavenly delight; 
How the loved ones will greet me 
From life's troubled story, 
And will welcome me home 
To the bright hills of glory! 

Pray tell me ye watchmen 
Who stand at the gate 
How long must I linger 
In sorrow--and wait? 
When I hear the sweet angels 
Rehearsing the story, 
And my spirit is longing 
For the bright hills of glory!