1.There is a land of pure delight,Where saints immortal reign;Infinite day excludes the night,And pleasures banish pain.There everlasting spring abides,And never with'ring flow'rs,And but a little space dividesThis heav'nly land from ours.2.Pure is the land the saints espy,And all the region peace;No wanton lips nor envious eyeCan see or taste the bliss.Those holy gates forever barPollution, sin, and shame;None shall obtain admittance thereBut foll'wers of the Lamb.3.O could we make our doubts removeThose gloomy doubts that rise,And see the Canaan that we love,With unbeclouded eyes;Could we but climb where Moses stood,And view the landscape o'er,Not all this world's pretended goodCould ever charm us more.