And is there, Lord, a rest

For weary souls designed,

Where not a care shall stir the breast,

Or sorrow entrance find?

2 Is there a blissful home,

Where kindred minds shall meet,

And live, and love, nor ever roam

From that serene retreat?

3 Are their bright, happy fields,

Where nought that blooms shall die;

Where each new scene fresh pleasure yields,

And healthful breezes sigh?

4 Are there celestial streams,

Where living waters glide,

With murmurs sweet as angel dreams,

And flowery banks beside?

5 For ever blesséd they

Whose joyful feet shall stand,

While endless ages waste away,

Amid that glorious land!

6 My soul would thither tend

While toilsome years are given;

Then let me, gracious Lord, ascend

To sweet repose in heaven!