I Hear Thee Speak of the Better Land

1 I hear you speak of a Better Land;
You call'd its children a happy band,
Teacher, oh! where is that radiant shore,
Shall we not seek it and weep no more?
Is it where the flow'r of the orange blows,
And the fire-flies glance thro' the myrtle boughs?
Not there, not there, not there, my child,
Not there, not there, not there, my child.

2 Is it where the feathery palm-trees rise,
And the date grows ripe under sunny skies?
Or 'mid the green islands of glitz'ring seas,
Where fragrant forests perfume the breeze,
And strange bright birds on their starry wings
Bear the rich hues of all glorious things?
Not there, not there, not there, my child,
Not there, not there, not there, my child.

3 Is it far away in some region old,
Where the rivers wander o'er sands of gold--
Where the burning rays of the ruby shine,
And the diamond lights up the secret mine,
And the pearl gleams forth from the coral strand?
Is there, dear teacher, that Better Land?
Not there, not there, not there, my child.

4 Eye hath not seen it, my gentle child,
Ear hath not heard its sweet songs so mild,
Dreams cannot picture a world so fair;
Sorrow and death cannot enter there;
Time doth not breathe on its fadeless bloom,
Far beyond the clouds and beyond the tomb,--
It is there, it is there, it is there, my child.

Source: Kind Words: a new collection of hymns and tunes for sunday schools and the social circle #4