By faith, I see up­laid
A land with beau­ty crowned,
Where trees, and flow­ers that ne­ver fade,
And rich­est fruits abound.

A land of end­less day,
Of bright, un­cloud­ed sky,
Ungirt by wave and bil­lowy sea,
Or sand of gold­en dye.

The home of an­gels bright,
And saints from earth set free,
Who walk with Christ in spot­less white,
’Midst shouts of vic­to­ry.

Thither my way­worn feet
Their con­stant steps shall tend;
Till to its shin­ing, gold­en street,
They fi­nal­ly as­cend.

To this de­light­ful end,
O Lord, Thy grace be­stow,
O teach me hum­bly to de­pend
On Thee, my jour­ney through.