Beyond the hills where suns go down,
And bright­ly beck­on as they go;
I see the land of far re­nown,
The land which I so soon shall know.

Above the dis­so­nance of time,
And dis­cord of its an­gry words,
I hear the ev­er­last­ing chime,
The mu­sic of un­jar­ring chords.

I bid it wel­come; and my haste
To join it can­not brook de­lay;
O song of morn­ing, come at last,
And ye who sing it, come away!

O song of light, and dawn, and bliss,
Sound ov­er earth, and fill these skies,
Nor ev­er, ev­er, ev­er cease
Thy soul en­tranc­ing me­lo­dies.

Glad song of this dis­bur­dened earth,
Which ho­ly voic­es then shall sing;
Praise for cre­ation’s se­cond birth,
And glo­ry to cre­ation’s king!