There is a land, like Eden fair

There is a land, like Eden fair, But more than Eden blest; The wicked cease from troubling there, The weary are at rest.

There is a land of calmest shore, Where ceaseless summers smile, And winds, like angel whispers, pour Across the shining isle.

There is a land of purest mirth, Where healing waters glide; And there the wearied child of Earth Untroubled may abide.

There is a land, where Sorrow’s sons, Like ocean’s wrecks, are tossed; But there revive those weeping ones, And Life’s dull sea is crossed!

There is a land, where small and great Before the Lord appear, The spoils of fortune, and of fate, Whom Heaven alone can cheer.

There is a land, where star-like shine The pearls of Christ’s renown: And gems, long buried in the mine, Are jewels in his crown.

There is a land, like Eden fair, But more than Eden blest; Oh! for a wing to waft me there, To fly, and be at rest!