holy, holy, holy is what the angels sing and I expect to help them make the courts of heaven ring.

[Guest]

A hymn from the childhood of an 80 year old friend.

[malachi456]

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 always clear;
O, that we might be more like them,
While we serve the Master here.

CHORUS
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.

But I hear another anthem,
Blending voices clear and strong,
"Unto Him that hath redeemed us, and has bought us," is the song;
"We have come through 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 washed throng;
For they sing about great trials,
Battles fought and victories 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 angels cannot share;
I will sing about my Saviour,
Who upon dark Calvary,
Freely pardoned my transgressions,
Died to set a sinner free.

[Guest]

Thank you so much. This is what I was looking for.