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Sing to me of heaven, sing the song of peace,
From the toils that bind me, it will bring release.
Burdens will be lifted, that are pressing so,
Showers of great blessing, o’er my heart will flow.
Sing to me of heaven, oh sweet seraphic voice,
Of a place beyond this mortal coil, where angels do rejoice.
A place of eternal beauty, where all pain and strife do cease.
And where the soul finds its home, in everlasting peace.
A place of golden streets, and skies of endless blue,
Where the gates are made of pearl, and the lights are pure and through.
Where the music of the spheres, plays a symphony divine,
And the fragrance of the flowers, is sweeter than wine.
Sing to me of heaven, where love is all around,
And where every heart is filled, with a joy that knows no bound.
Where the lamb shall lie with the lion, and the child shall lead the way,
And all tears shall be wiped away, on that glorious day.
Oh, sing to me of heaven, where every soul is free,
And where the fulness of God’s grace, is revealed for all to see.
Where the saints of all the ages, gather ‘round the throne,
And sing with one accord, of the love that made us whole.
Sing to me of heaven, let me fondly dream,
Of its golden glory, of its pearly gleam,
Sing to me when shadows of the evening fall
Sing to me of heaven, sing the sweetest song of all.
The first and last stanzas of the poem credited to Ada powell and B.B. Beall.