Dwell in those cities far from mortal woe—
Haunt those fresh woodlands, whence sweet carrollings soar.
Eternal peace have they:
God wipes their tears away:
They drink that river of life which flows for
Evermore.
4 Thither we hasten through these regions dim,
But, lo! the wide wings of the seraphim
Shine in the sunset! On that joyous shore
Our lightened hearts shall know