Know ye that better land,

Where care’s unknown?

Know ye that blesséd band

Around the throne?

There, there is happiness,

There streams of purest bliss;

There, there are rest and peace—

There, there alone.

2 Yes, yes, we know that place,

We know it well;

Eye hath not seen his face,

Tongue can not tell;

There are the angels bright,

There saints enrobed in white,

All, all are clothed in light—

There, there they dwell.

3 O! we are weary here,

A little band,

Yet soon in glory there

We hope to stand;

Then let us haste away,

Speed o’er this world’s dark way,

Unto that land of day—

That better land.

4 Come! hasten that sweet day,

Let time begone,

Come! Lord, make no delay,

On thy white throne;

Thy face we wish to see,

To dwell and reign with thee,

And, thine for ever be—

Thine, thine alone.