There’s a land far away, ’mid the stars, we are told,

Where they know not the sorrows of time,

Where the pure waters wander through valleys of gold,

And where life is a treasure sublime;

’Tis the land of our God—’tis the home of the soul,

Where the ages of splendor eternally roll:

Where the way-weary traveler reaches his goal,

On the ever-green mountains of life.

2 Here our gaze can not soar to that beautiful land,

But our visions have told of its bliss,

And our souls by the gale from its gardens are fanned,

When we faint in the deserts of this;

And we sometimes have longed for its holy repose,

When our spirits were torn with temptation and woes,

And we’ve drank from the tide of the river that flows

From the ever-green mountains of life.

3 O the stars never tread the blue heavens by night,

But we think where the ransomed have trod,

And the day never smiles from his palace of light,

But we feel the bright smiles of our God.

We are traveling homeward thro’ changes and gloom,

To a kingdom where pleasures unchangingly bloom;

And our guide is the glory that shines thro’ the tomb

From the ever-green mountains of life.