There is a land mine eye hath seen,
In vi­sions of en­rap­tured thought,
So bright that all which spreads be­tween
Is with its ra­di­ant glo­ry fraught:

A land upon whose bliss­ful shore
There rests no sha­dow, falls no stain;
There those who meet shall part no more,
And those long part­ed meet again.

Its skies are not like earth­ly skies,
With va­ry­ing hues of shade and light;
It hath no need of sun to rise,
To dis­si­pate the gloom of night.

There sweeps no de­so­la­ting wind
Across that calm, se­rene abode;
The wan­der­er there a home may find,
Within the pa­ra­dise of God.