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-withr’ing flowers:

Death like a narrow sea divides

That heavenly land from ours.

Sweet fields beyond the swelling flood

Stand dressed in living green:

So to the Jews fair Canaan stood,

While Jordan roll’d between.

But tim’rous mortals start and shrink

To cross that narrow sea;

And linger shiv’ring on the brink,

And fear to launch away.

O could we make our doubts remove,

Those gloomy doubts that rise,

And see the Canaan that we love,

With unbeclouded eyes!

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.