1 There is a land of pure delight,|
Where saints immortal reign,
Infinite day excludes the night,
And pleasures banish pain.
2 There everlasting spring abides,
And never-withering flowers:
Death, like a narrow sea, divides
This heavenly land from ours.
3 Sweet fields beyond the swelling flood
Stand dressed in living green:
So to the Jews old Canaan stood,
While Jordan rolled between.
4 But timorous mortals start and shrink|
To cross this narrow sea;
And linger, shivering on the brink,
And fear to launch away.
5 O could we make our doubts remove,
Those gloomy thoughts that rise,
And see the Canaan that we love
With unbeclouded eyes!
6 Could we but climb where Moses stood,
And view the landscape o'er,
Not Jordan's stream, nor death's cold flood,
Should fright us from the shore.
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