There Is a Land (Sweet)

There is a land where dwell­ers sweet­ly rest

Beyond the dis­cord of earth’s stor­my years;

Where heart­aches nev­er more shall vex the breast

And God’s own hand shall wipe away all tears.

A bet­ter land where mor­tals reap in joy

The har­vest sown in dis­ap­point­ment here;

Where love shall claim its own

nor fears an­noy—

Where there is per­fect love with­out a fear.

A joy­ous land

with mu­sic on the air

Where ang­el voices swell the glad­some strain;

Bright gleams life’s riv­er

soft­ly flow­ing

fair;

There is no death in all that wide do­main.