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 doubts 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.