I am dwell­ing on the mount­ain,
Where the gold­en sun­light gleams
O’er a land whose won­drous beau­ty
Far ex­ceeds my fond­est dreams,
Where the air is pure, ethe­re­al,
Laden with the breath of flow­ers,
They are bloom­ing by the fount­ain,
’Neath the ama­ran­thine bowers.

Refrain

Is not this the Land of Beu­lah?
Blessèd, bless­èd land of light;
Where the flow­ers bloom for­ev­er,
And the sun is al­ways bright.

I can see far down the mount­ain,
Where I wan­dered wea­ry years,
Often hin­dered in my jour­ney,
By the ghosts of doubt and fears;
Broken vows and dis­ap­point­ments,
Thickly sprin­kled all the way,
But the Spir­it led, un­err­ing,
To the land I hold to­day.

Refrain

I am drink­ing at the fount­ain,
Where I ev­er would abide,
For I’ve tast­ed life’s pure ri­ver,
And my soul is sa­tis­fied;
There’s no thirst­ing for life’s plea­sures,
Nor adorn­ing rich and gay,
For I’ve found a rich­er trea­sure,
One that fad­eth not away.

Refrain

Tell me not of hea­vy cross­es,
Nor the burd­ens hard to bear,
For I’ve found this great sal­va­tion
Makes each bur­den light ap­pear;
And I love to fol­low Je­sus,
Gladly count­ing all but dross,
Worldly hon­ors all for­sak­ing,
For the glo­ry of the cross.

Refrain

Oh, the cross has won­drous glo­ry!
Oft I’ve proved this to be true;
When I’m in the way so nar­row,
I can see a path­way through;
And how sweet­ly Je­sus whis­pers:
Take the cross, thou need’st not fear,
For I’ve tried the way be­fore thee,
And the glo­ry lin­gers near.