THE BETTER LAND

All our days are full of blessings,
Lighting up the pleasant way;
And life-giving heart refreshings,
Shower upon us every day.
But although the earth is giving
Forth its joys on every hand;
We are hoping to be living
In the better, better land.

Enchanted birds are ever singing,
In the air, and in the grove;
And their gayest notes are ringing
Out their happiness and love.
O - but soon we will by dying,
With the feathered choral land -
Therefore we are sighing - sighing,
For the better, better land.

Pure and healing air surrounds us,
As we walk the beauteous Earth;
And soft golden sunlight crowns us,
Like a gem of heavenly worth.
But these we shall soon be leaving -
For we see the golden strand,
We are panting to be breathing
In the better, better land.

Yes - the Earth in beauty, blooming,
Gives us joys both sweet and fair.
Her soft air is all-perfuming;
And it fans us everywhere.
But our spirit-joys will never
Fade away, so sure they stand -
They will shine, and live for ever,
In the better, better land.

Truest friends abound, who love us;
And their words bring sweet delight.
And their looks, like stars above us,
Do illume our darkest night.
And although they fast are falling,
By time's fatal magic wand -
They only haste to voices calling
From the better, better land.

Through the joys, and through the crying;
Till we lie beneath the sod.
Both in living, and in dying,
We will trust in Jacob's God.
He will lead us to the greeting
With that blessed heavenly land
To that wondrous family meeting,
In the better, better land.

George Burgess - May 1878