Land of Rest (Manville)

Beyond the val­ley ly­ing low

Through which our feet some day shall go—

Beyond the hill’s so pur­ple haze

That stretch­es far be­yond our gaze—

There is a place

so hap­pi­ly blest

Which here we call The Land of Rest.

A land with hills and val­leys fair

And many of our loved are there;

So si­lent­ly

and one by one

They went the lone­some jour­ney on;

All

fold­ed hands up­on their breast

Went out in­to The Land of Rest.

I long that hap­py bourne to see

I long to know how it will be

When first these eyes of mine be­hold

The land of which the pro­phets told.

Of my in­her­it­ance pos­sessed

When shall I reach The Land of Rest?

O bless­èd land! O time so slow!

Not with re­luct­ance I shall go

But on my lips a hap­py song

That it

the day looked for so long

Has come to take me to that blest—

That peace­ful land

The Land of Rest.