No sickness there,

No weary wasting of the frame away,

No fearful shrinking from the midnight air,

No dread of summer’s bright and fervid ray.

2 No hidden grief,

No wild and cheerless vision of despair,

No vain petition for a swift relief,

No tearful eye, no broken hearts are there.

3 Care has no home

Within that realm of ceaseless praise and song:

Its tossing billows break and melt in foam,

Far from the mansions of the spirit-throng.

4 No parted friends

O’er mournful recollections have to weep!

No bed of death enduring love attends,

To watch the coming of a pulseless sleep.

5 No blasted flower

Or withered bud celestial gardens grow!

No scorching blast or fierce descending shower

Scatters destruction like a ruthless foe!

6 No battle-word

Startles the sacred host with fear and dread!

The song of peace, Creation’s morning heard,

Is sung wherever angel-minstrels tread!

7 Let us depart

If scenes like these await the weary soul!

Look up, thou stricken one! Thy wounded heart,

Shall bleed no more at sorrow’s stern control!

8 With faith our guide,

White-robed and innocent, to lead the way,

Why fear to plunge in Jordan’s rolling tide,

And find the ocean of eternal day!