There is singing up in heav’n such as we have newer known,

Where the angels sing the praises of the Lamb upon the throne,

Their sweet harps are ever tuneful and their voices always dear,

O that we might be more like them while we serve the Master here!

But I hear another anthem blending voices clear and strong,

Unto Him that hath redeem’d us and hath bought us, is the song;

We have come thro tribulations to this land so fair and bright,

In the fountain, freely flowing He hath made our garments white.

Then the angels stand and listen, for they cannot join that song

Like the sound of many waters by that happy, blood-wash’d throng;

For they sing about great trials, battles fought and vict’ries won,

And they praise their great Redeemer who hath said to them, Well done!

So, although I'm not an angel, yet I know that over there

I will join a blessed chorus that the angel cannot share;

I will sing about my Saviour who upon dark Calvary

Freely pardon’d my transgressions, died to set a sinner free.