Sweet Fields

When we come to Ed­en’s bloom­ing fields

Where there are no sad fare­wells

We’ll to Je­sus ren­der glad­some praise

Throughout ev­er­last­ing days.

Sweet fields all ar­rayed

With fount­ains and ev­er­green;

The Lamb shall be praised

And there we with Him shall reign.

In that land where gold­en harps shall ring

And the glo­ri­fied shall sing

Where the Lord in glad paths leads His own

And no pain shall e’er be known.

Sweetly falls up­on your ear His voice—

Gladly hear it and re­joice;

Why not choose the path to Heav­en’s shore

And be blest for ev­er­more?