There is a land of pure delight,

Where saints immortal reign;

Eternal day excludes the night,

And pleasures banish pain.

There everlasting spring abides,

And never-fading flowers;

Death, like a narrow sea, divides

This heavenly land from ours.

Bright fields beyond the swelling flood

Stand dressed in living green;

So to the Jews fair Canaan stood,

While Jordan rolled between.

But timorous mortals start and shrink

To cross the narrow sea;

And linger, trembling on the brink,

And fear to launch away.

O could we make our doubts remove,

Those gloomy doubts that rise,

And see the Canaan that we love,

With faith's illumined eyes:

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.