555. C. M. Watts. A Prospect of Heaven.
1 There is a land of pure delight,
Where saints immortal reign;
Eternal day excludes the night,
And pleasures banish pain.
2 There everlasting spring abides,
And never-withering flowers:
Death, like a narrow sea, divides
This heavenly land from ours.
3 Sweet fields beyond the swelling flood
Stand dressed in living green:
So to the Jews old Canaan stood,
And Jordan rolled between.
4 O could we make our doubts remove, --
Those gloomy doubts that rise, --
And see the Canaan that we love
With unbeclouded eyes.
5 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.