1 There is a land above
A clime of peaceful rest,
Where saints and angels bask in love,—
Secure, supremely blest.

2 I wander to and fro
In this low earthly sphere;
But, ever onward as I go,
Angelic songs I hear.

3 Sometimes, in hours of night,
Songs sweetly strange float down
From out the beauteous realms of light,
Where waits for me a crown.

4 O glad and glorious day
When I the King shall see—
Where angel forms in bright array
Await to welcome me!

5 Till then, I'll watch and pray,
Nor give the battle o'er—
Until I greet that endless day
Which gilds yon heav'nly Shore.