We Have Heard

We have heard from the bright

the ho­ly land;

We have heard

and our hearts are glad;

For we were a lone­ly pil­grim band

And wea­ry

and worn

and sad.

They tell us the saints have a dwell­ing there—

No long­er are home­less ones;

And we know that the good­ly land is fair

Where life’s pure riv­er runs.

They say green fields are wav­ing there

That nev­er a blight shall know;

And the de­serts wild are bloom­ing fair

And the ros­es of Sha­ron grow.

There are love­ly birds in the bow­ers green

Their songs are blithe and sweet;

And their warb­lings

gush­ing ev­er new

The an­gels’ harp­ings greet.

We have heard of the palms

the robes

the crowns

And the sil­very band in white.

Of the ci­ty fair

with pear­ly gates

All ra­di­ant with light.

We have heard of the an­gels there

and saints

With their harps of gold

how they sing;

Of the mount with the fruit­ful tree of life

Of the leaves that heal­ing bring.

The King of that coun­try

He is fair

He’s the joy and light of the place;

In His beau­ty we shall be­hold Him there

And bask in His smil­ing face.

We’ll be there

we’ll be there in a lit­tle while

We’ll join the pure and the blest;

We’ll have the palm

the robe

the crown

And for­ev­er be at rest.