1 There is a land of welcomes,
With ne’er a last farewell,--
If near, or yet far distant,
No messenger may tell.
But with life’s tide I’m drifting
Still nearer to that shore,
Where saints and angels waiting
Give welcomes evermore.

2 The sea is calm and open,
No longer tempest-tost;
The rocks and storms behind me,
The way cannot be lost.
For Jesus waits and watches
To speak the “Peace, be still;”
He calms the troubled waters,
And waves obey His will.

3 There, in that land of greetings,
We shall securely dwell;
For, ent’ring at His bidding,
We’ll no more say farewell.
O land, O land of welcomes!
Time bears us to that shore
Where loved ones wait our coming,
With welcomes evermore.