Scripture Verse

Our Savior Jesus Christ…hath abolished death, and hath brought life and immortality to light through the Gospel. 2 Timothy 1:10

Introduction

portrait
Thomas MacKellar
(1812–1899)

Words: Thomas Mac­Kel­lar, 1845:

One ev­en­ing as a fan­cy sud­den­ly struck me of a re­li­gious na­ture, I laid aside the work in hand, and pur­su­ing the new idea, I at once pro­duced the hymn, ‘There is a land im­mor­tal,’ and sent it to the ed­it­or [of Neale’s Ga­zette], who re­ferred to it as a re­li­gious po­em from ‘Tam,’ my as­sumed name, un­der which I had al­rea­dy ac­quired con­sid­er­able no­to­ri­ety…

It was wide­ly co­pied, and af­ter­wards in­sert­ed in a vol­ume pub­lished by me. The New York Jour­nal of Com­ment, years af­ter, pub­lished it as a pro­duc­tion of ‘Bar­ry Corn­wall.’

This er­ror was af­ter­ward cor­rect­ed, but it mis­led Rev. Dr. C. S. Ro­bin­son, who in­sert­ed it in his Spir­it­ual Songs, giv­ing the au­thor­ship to ‘Bar­ry Corn­wall.’ He gave my name in af­ter edi­tions.

Duffield p. 551

Music: Bar Har­bor George F. Root, Pure De­light! (Cin­cin­na­ti, Ohio: John Church, 1883), page 72 (🔊 pdf nwc).

Alternate Tune:

portrait
George Root (1820–1895)

Lyrics

There is a land im­mor­tal,
The beau­ti­ful of lands;
Beside the an­cient por­tal
A sen­try grim­ly stands.
He on­ly can un­do it,
And op­en wide the door;
And mor­tals who pass through it,
Are mor­tals nev­er more.

Refrain

Oh beau­ti­ful, beau­ti­ful land!
Oh beau­ti­ful, beau­ti­ful land!
Amid its fields of glo­ry
May we in safe­ty stand.

That glo­ri­ous land is Heav­en,
And Death the sen­try grim;
The Lord there­fore has giv­en
The op­en­ing keys to him.
And ran­somed spir­its, sigh­ing
And sor­row­ful for sin,
Do pass the gate in dy­ing,
And free­ly en­ter in.

Refrain

Though dark and drear the pas­sage
That lead­eth to the gate,
Yet grace comes with the mes­sage,
To souls that watch and wait;
And, at the time ap­point­ed,
A mes­sen­ger comes down,
And leads the Lord’s an­oint­ed
From cross to glo­ry’s crown.

Refrain

Their sighs are lost in sing­ing,
They’re bless­èd in their tears;
Their jour­ney heav’n­ward wing­ing,
They leave to earth their fears.
Death like an an­gel seem­eth—
We wel­come thee, they cry;
Their face with glo­ry beam­eth—
’Tis life for them to die.

Refrain