There was an Ed­en once on earth
Beyond con­cept­ion fair—
Where mor­tal beau­ty had her birth
Ere sin had en­tered there.

What flow’rs per­fumed the bal­my gale
All burst­ing in­to bloom:
What fruits en­riched the hap­py vale
Of cool, but grate­ful gloom!

There our first par­ents, clothed in grace,
The vel­vet ver­dure trod,
And loved in all they saw, to trace
The ves­tig­es of God!

Oh! life di­vine—when day re­tired
And closed her gold­en eye—
And ge­ni­al ev­en­ing gent­ly fired
The cur­tains of the sky:

Then would the Voice, that made them all,
Flow down­ward from His throne—
And sweet­ly on His crea­tures call,
To walk with Him alone!

Holy com­mun­ion! Match­less joy!
How free­ly it was giv’n;
That bath of bliss, with­out al­loy,
An an­te­past of Heav’n!

Woe to the hour, that shed its shade
O’er such a glo­ri­ous scene—
And soon, too soon, in ru­ins laid
That which had per­fect been!

From Ed­en to Geth­se­ma­ne—
With ten­der tears we turn:
Our dear Re­deem­er there to see,
And there re­joice and mourn!