Tchee-tchilth tumokh owe-awts hayluk
Ta shwalays ta ay-e mestayokh,
Owe-awts see-a-kwom staa to lay,
Owita `kaw-`kie lay.
Owe-awts kweelis lay ta tchee-tchilth,
Ta spa-`kwom owe-awts ay-e;
Tla-wat owe-awts tsits-ay-e o ay-e,
Tchalal hayluk lay titsa.
1 There is a land of pure delight
Where saints immortal reign;
Infinite day excludes the night,
And pleasures banish pain.
2 There everlasting spring abides,
And never withering flowers;
Death, like a narrow sea, divides
That heavenly land from ours.
3 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.