There is a land immortal,

The beautiful of lands;

Beside its ancient portal

A silent sentry stands;

He only can undo it,

And open wide the door;

And mortals who pass through it,

Are mortals nevermore.

2 Though dark and drear the passage

That leadeth to the gate,

Yet grace comes with the message,

To souls that watch and wait;

And at the time appointed

A messenger comes down,

And leads the Lord’s anointed

From cross to glory’s crown.

3 Their sighs are lost in singing,

They’re blesséd in their tears;

Their journey heavenward winging,

They leave on earth their fears:

Death like an angel seemeth;

“We welcome thee,” they cry;

Their face with glory beameth—

’Tis life for them to die!