1

Tchee-tchilth tumokh owe-awts hayluk

Ta shwalays ta ay-e mestayokh,

Owe-awts see-a-kwom staa to lay,

Owita `kaw-`kie lay.

2

Owe-awts kweelis lay ta tchee-tchilth,

Ta spa-`kwom owe-awts ay-e;

Tla-wat owe-awts tsits-ay-e o ay-e,

Tchalal hayluk lay titsa.

There is a land of pure delight

Where saints immortal reign;

Infinite day excludes the night,

And pleasures banish pain.

There everlasting spring abides,

And never withering flowers;

Death, like a narrow sea, divides

That heavenly land from ours.

Could we but climb where Moses stood,

And view the landscape o’er,

Not Jordan’s stream, nor death’s cold flood,

Should fright us from the shore.