| |
| LAND of the cedar and palm, | |
| Land of the olive and myrtle, | |
| Breathing of Gilead’s balm | |
| Over fragrant fields and fertile, | |
| From the sunset shore of the sea | 5 |
| Greeting of peace to thee! | |
| |
| Though the din of strange cities resound | |
| In our ears, forget we can never | |
| Those piercing, lingering sounds | |
| Or David’s lyre, that ever | 10 |
| To Zion’s Redeemer upraise | |
| Their pæan of deathless praise. | |
| |
| And we that long for that sunny field, | |
| The abode of our youth, where God’s spirit | |
| First to mortals revealed | 15 |
| Those truths that we still inherit, | |
| Field fertile with fruitage of glory | |
| And haunted by memories hoary. | |
| |
| Happy are they that sow | |
| Thy seed and reap of their sowing! | 20 |
| Happy! they never shall know | |
| The exile’s sorrow, not knowing | |
| The infinite heart-ache and pain | |
| Of the toilers that toil in vain. | |
| |
| From the land of our sojourning | 25 |
| Zion, to thee, nor burn | |
| With a fever or fretful yearning | |
| In the patience of hope we toil | |
| Again to possess thy soil. | |
| |
| Land of the cedar and palm, | 30 |
| Land of the olive and myrtle, | |
| Breathing Gilead’s balm | |
| Over fragrant fields and fertile, | |
| From the sunset shore of the sea | |
| In God’s time we shall come to thee. | 35 |
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