And is there, Lord, a rest
For weary souls designed,
Where not a care shall stir the breast,
Or sorrow entrance find?
Is there a blissful home,
Where kindred minds shall meet,
And live and love, nor ever roam
From that serene retreat?
Are there bright, happy fields,
Where naught that blooms shall die;
Where each new scene fresh pleasure yields,
And healthful breezes sigh?
Are there celestial streams,
Where living waters glide,
With murmurs sweet as angel dreams,
And flowery banks beside?
For ever blessèd they,
Whose joyful feet shall stand,
While endless ages waste away,
Amid that glorious land!
My soul would thither tend,
While toilsome years are given;
Then let me, gracious God, ascend
To sweet repose in Heaven!