There is a coun­try pure and bright,
Where plea­sures ne­ver die;
A re­gion of un­cloud­ed light,
Beyond the star­ry sky.

Refrain

O hap­py land, O ho­ly land,
Land ev­er bright and fair;
When shall I join that ha­ppy band,
Who wor­ship ev­er there?

Its skies are not like earth­ly skies,
Now clear, then spread with gloom;
The peo­ple of that clime ne’er die,
In end­less life they bloom.

Refrain

All those who reach that land of rest
Shall be from sor­row freed;
They’ll lean up­on the Sav­ior’s breast,
On liv­ing pas­tures feed.

Refrain

Ah, when shall I from time re­move,
When reach that land so fair?
When will the gold­en cha­ri­ot come,
To take me ov­er there?

Refrain