1
There is singing up in heaven
such as we have never known,
Where the angels sing the praises
of the Lamb upon the throne;
Their sweet harps are ever tuneful
and their voices are always clear,
O that we might be more like them
while we serve the Master here!
Refrain
Holy, holy, is what the angels sing,
And I expect to help them make
the courts of heaven ring;
But when I sing redemption’s story,
they will fold their wings,
For angels never felt the joys
that our salvation brings.
2
But I hear another anthem,
blending voices clear and strong,
“Unto Him who hath redeemed 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.
3
Then the angels stand and listen,
for they cannot join that song,
Like the sound of many waters,
by that happy, blood-washed throng;
For they sing about great trials,
battles fought and vict’ries won,
And they praised the great Redeemer,
who hath said to them, “Well done.”
4
So, although I’m not an angel,
yet I know that over there
I will join a blessed chorus
that the angels cannot share;
I will sing about my Savior,
who upon dark Calvary
Freely pardoned my transgressions,
died to set the sinner free.
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