He looked for a city and lived in a tent... A pilgrim to glory right onward he went... God's promise his solace, so royal his birth.. No wonder he sought not the glories of earth.
He looked for a city his God should prepare... No mansion on earth could he covet or share... For had not God told him that royal abode... Awaited His coming on ending the road?
He looked for a city; if sometimes he sighed... To be trudging the road, all earth's glory denied... The thought of that city changed sighing to song... For the road might be rough, but it could not be long.
He looked for a city; his hope, Lord, we share... And know that bright city, which Thou dost prepare... We'll dwell in forever, since willing to be... Just pilgrims with Jesus, our roof a tent-tree.