There is a land, a better land than this

1There is a land, a better land than this— There's my home, there's my home, My captive heart still there for bliss, There's my home, there's my home. A captive here, I long to soar, I long to count my exile o'er, And lo! where sorrows come no more; There's my home, there's my home.

2Far, far I am from my own happy shore— I would go, I would go. But death's dark flood rolls on before, I would go, I would go. I would not stay though earth were mine; Though all its treasures for me shine, A captive here I still would pine— I would go, I would go.

3Bright visions of that blissful land appear— There's my home, there's my home; I know the glorious hour draws near, There's my home, there's my home. Oh! tell me that I soon shall be, With all the ransomed exiles, free, There is that land I long to see; There's my home, there's my home.

4There is a land, a brighter land than this— Joys are there, joys are there; Sweet music fills the blissful shore, Reaches there, reaches there. Bright fields of pleasure greet the eye, And crystal streams that never dry; If I give me wings, I now would fly, And be there, and be there.