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.