Album: Volume 3
There is a land of pure delight, where saints immortal reign,
Eternal day excludes the night, and pleasures banish pain.
There everlasting spring abides, and never withering flowers:
Death, like narrow seas, divide this heav'nly land from ours.
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.
O could we make our doubts remove, those gloomy thoughts 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.
Could we but climb where Moses stood, and view the landscape o'er,
Not Jordan's stream, nor death's cold flood—
Not Jordan's stream, nor death's cold flood, should fright us from the shore.
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