I am dwelling on the mountain,
Where the golden sunlight gleams
O’er a land whose wondrous beauty
Far exceeds my fondest dreams,
Where the air is pure, ethereal,
Laden with the breath of flowers,
They are blooming by the fountain,
’Neath the amaranthine bow’rs.
Is not this the Land of Beulah?
Blessèd, blessèd land of light;
Where the flowers bloom forever,
And the sun is always bright.
I can see far down the mountain,
Where I wandered weary years,
Often hindered in my journey,
By the ghosts of doubt and fears;
Broken vows and disappointments,
Thickly sprinkled all the way,
But the Spirit led, unerring,
To the land I hold today.
I am drinking at the fountain,
Where I ever would abide,
For I’ve tasted life’s pure river,
And my soul is satisfied;
There’s no thirsting for life’s pleasures,
Nor adorning rich and gay,
For I’ve found a richer treasure,
One that fadeth not away.
Tell me not of heavy crosses,
Nor the burdens hard to bear,
For I’ve found this great salvation
Makes each burden light appear;
And I love to follow Jesus,
Gladly counting all but dross,
Worldly honors all forsaking,
For the glory of the cross.