Jerusalem 歌词

Chorus (after each verse): Jerusalem, our happy home When shall we come to thee? When shall our sorrows have an end? Thy joys when shall we see? They see no one that sent her there Their palms spring from the ground No tongue can tell, no heart can think What joys do there abound Forever more the trees perfumed And ever more they spring And ever more the saints are glad And ever more they sing Fair Magdalene, she has less moan Likewise there she does sing The happy saints in harmony Through every street doth ring Fair Magdalene hath dried her tears She'll sing no more to thee Nor wet the ringlets of her hair To wash her savior's feet 1