There Is a Land of Pure Delight

There is a land of pure delight,
where saints immortal reign;
infinite day excludes the night,
and pleasures banish pain.

There everlasting spring abides,
and never-with'ring flow'rs;
death, like a narrow sea, divides
this heav'nly land from ours.

Sweet fields beyond the swelling flood
stand dressed in living green;
so to the Jews old Canaan stood,
while Jordan rolled between.

But tim'rous mortals start and shrink
to cross this narrow sea;
and linger, shiv'ring, on the brink,
and fear to launch away.

O could we make our doubts remove,
those gloomy doubts that rise,
and see the Canaan that we love
with unbeclouded eyes;

Could we but climb where Moses stood,
and view the landscape o'er,
not Jordan's stream, nor death's cold flood,
should fright us from the shore.