Where the Seraphs chant their hymn;

Where a heaven, serenely glorious,

Bends above a paradise,

Clad in tints of gayer splendor,

Than our dream-land's gorgeous dyes.

Yes! she blooms in deathless beauty,

In that brighter world than ours;

Where the happy saints and angels,

Gleam her glorious sister flowers;

Where no frost, no killing tempest,