Beyond the hills where suns go down,
And brightly beckon as they go;
I see the land of far renown,
The land which I so soon shall know.
Above the dissonance of time,
And discord of its angry words,
I hear the everlasting chime,
The music of unjarring chords.
I bid it welcome; and my haste
To join it cannot brook delay;
O song of morning, come at last,
And ye who sing it, come away!
O song of light, and dawn, and bliss,
Sound over earth, and fill these skies,
Nor ever, ever, ever cease
Thy soul entrancing melodies.
Glad song of this disburdened earth,
Which holy voices then shall sing;
Praise for creation’s second birth,
And glory to creation’s king!