Where the Roses Never Fade

I am going to a city

where the streets with gold are laid,

where the tree of life is blooming

and the roses never fade.

Here they bloom but for a season,

soon their beauty is decayed;

I am going to a city,

where the roses never fade.

In this world we have our troubles,

Satan's snares we must evade;

we'll be free from all temptations,

where the roses never fade.

Loved ones gone to be with Jesus,

in their robes of white arrayed,

now are waiting for my coming,

where the roses never fade.

This is the song we sang at Aunt Sena's funeral.