There Is a Land of Pure Delight

There is a land of pure delight,Where saints immortal reign;Eternal day excludes the night,And pleasures banish pain.

There everlasting spring abides,And never-withering flowers;Death, like a narrow sea, dividesThis heavenly land from ours.

Sweet fields, beyond the swelling flood,Stand dressed in living green;So to the Jews old Canaan stood,While Jordan rolled between.

But timorous mortals start and shrinkTo cross this narrow sea,And linger, shivering, on the brinkAnd fear to launch away.

O could we make our doubts remove,Those gloomy doubts that rise,And view the Canaan that we love,With unbeclouded eyes:

Could we but climb where Moses stoodAnd view the landscape o’er,Not Jordan’s stream nor death’s cold floodShould fright us from the shore.