Oh, The Peaceful Resting Land,
Where The Saints In Glory,
Bending At The Saviour’s Feet,
Tell The Grand Old Story.

Sweetly They Are Singing,
Hear The Echo Ringing,
In The Land Of Beauty
Blessed Land Of Song !

Where The Cloudless Beams Of Day
Banish Care And Sadness;
Lo, The Reapers Enter Now,
Bearing Sheaves Of Gladness.

Oh, The Tender, Loving Words,
Purest Joy Revealing !
Soft And Low From Kindred Souls,
On The Twilight Stealing.

Soon Together We Shall Stand
By The Crystal River,
There To Join The Holy Throng,
Praising God For Ever.