Vision of the New Earth
 
1. We looked up at God's city, and saw twelve flashing gates,
With three on ev'ry side– an angel at them waits.
We all cried out, "The city! It's coming down from God!" 
It came down and it settled where Jesus' feet had trod.
We looked outside the city and glorious houses saw,
Supported on four pillars, 'twas like nothing seen before;
Appearance of pure silver, pearls glorious to behold,
We know that all who live there never ever will grow old. 
 
2. The saints go in their houses, and fight no more with self;
Take off their glitt'ring crowns upon a golden shelf.
Next to fields full of flowers, they gathered them and cried,
Then took them to their dwellings–those flowers never died.
Another field we entered with ev'ry kind of beast:
The lion, lamb, and leopard, all together dwell in peace.
Such scenes upon our sad earth could not be understood:
We'll dwell safe in the wilderness, and sleep safe in the woods. 
 
3. We met a group of martyrs–white robes with bloodred hem;
With Jesus as their Friend, for they were slain for Him.
Mount Zion just before us, the temple on its height,
And seven mountains round it, where lilies grew, pure white.
So many kinds of trees there–the temple beautify;
The little ones all beat their wings, to seven mountains fly.
The never fading flowers, they gather in their hand;
We all cry, "Alleluia! We have found a fairer land!" 
 
4. The temple's seven pillars, all of transparent gold;
With pearls most glorious set, the wonders are untold.
A table of pure silver: fruit, manna, laid thereon;
We could not see it's end, for 'twas many miles long.
We saw the stony tablets, with names engraved in gold;
Oh who can tell the glory of the things we will behold?
We'll soon His lovely voice hear, "Oh come, my people, come.
Come out of tribulation great, My will you have well done." 
 
5. But wait a little while now, if faithful, bold, and true,
We'll eat the tree of life, drink purest water too;
Fig, almond, pomegranate–all in such great supply,
And sing with friends forever, not one of us shall die.
I feel so very lonely, I've seen a better land;
Oh for the strong wings of a dove: I'd fly into His hand.
I'll never be at rest here, my homesickness so strong,
I know He's coming back though, for the prophets can't be wrong. 
 
Text: based on the first vision of Ellen White, as recorded in Early Writings, p. 14-20