611 There is a land of pure delight,

1 There is a land of pure delight, Where saints immortal reign: Infinite day excludes the night, And pleasures banish pain. 2 There everlasting spring abides, With never-withering flowers; Death, like a narrow sea, divides That heavenly land from ours. 3 Sweet fields beyond the swelling flood, Stand dressed in living green; So to the Jews old Canaan stood, While Jordan rolled between. 4 But timorous mortals start and shrink To cross this narrow sea, And linger trembling on the brink, And fear to launch away. 5 O could we make our doubts remove, Those gloomy doubts that rise, And see the Canaan that we love, With faith's illumined eyes. 6 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.