HYMN 66. (C. M.) A Prospect of Heaven makes Death easy.
I
There is a land of pure delight
Where saints immortal reign,
Infinite day excludes the night,
And pleasures banish pain.
II
There everlasting spring abides,
And never-withering flowers:
Death like a narrow sea divides
This heavenly land from ours.
III
Sweet fields beyond the swelling flood
Stand dress'd in living green:
So to the Jews old Canaan stood,
While Jordan roll'd between.
IV
But timorous mortals start and shrink
To cross this narrow sea,
And linger shivering on the brink,
And fear to launch away.
V
O! could we make our doubts remove,
These gloomy doubts that rise,
And see the Canaan that we love,
With unbeclouded eyes!
VI
Could we but climb where Moses stood,
And view the landscape o'er,
Not Jordan's stream, nor deaths cold flood,
Should fright us from the shore.
