We have heard of a land
On whose blue, eth­er skies
Not a cloud for a mo­ment can stay;
And it needs not the sun
In his splen­dor to rise
For the Lord is the light of its day;
We have heard of that land,
And its glo­ry we seek,
Where the faith­ful with Je­sus shall dwell,
Where the ros­es of youth
Never fade from the cheek,
And the lips ne­ver mur­mur,
Farewell.

We have talked of that land,
When our jour­ney as long,
And our hearts ov­er­bur­dened with care;
We have talked of the blest
At the ri­ver of song,
And how oft we have sighed to be there;
And our faith has gone up,
Like a bird on the wing,
To that land on eter­ni­ty’s shore,
Where the joy bells of Ed­en
Forever shall ring,
And the soul shall be wea­ry no more.

We are near­ing that land,
We are near­ing the gate,
To the city of jas­per and gold,
Where the Sav­ior to wel­come
His child­ren doth wait,
And will ga­ther them in­to the fold;
To the fold of His love,
In the man­sions above,
Where for­ev­er with Him they shall dwell,
And the eyes that ere sad
In His smile shall be glad,
And the lips ne­ver mur­mur,
Farewell.