It was as if upon His breast

He laid His piercèd hand,

And said “To thee, beloved and blest,

I give this goodly land.”

O Land of fountains and of deeps,

Of God’s exhaustless store—

O blessed Land, where he who reaps

Shall never hunger more—

O summer Land, for ever fair

With God’s unfading flowers;

O Land, where spices fill the air,

And songs the golden towers—

O Land of safety, Land of home,

Of God my Father’s kiss,

To Thee, O glorious Land, I come,

My heritage of bliss.

Lord, not through works of righteousness,

The works that I have done,

But through the glory of Thy grace,

The merit of Thy Son,

To me this goodly Land is given,

The heart of Christ to me—

My Home, my Blessedness, my Heaven;

My God, I worship Thee.