Indexes for The Sacred Harp, 2025 Edition

There is a land of pure delight
Where saints immortal reign;
Infinite day excludes the night,
And pleasures banish pain.
Sweet fields beyond the swelling flood
Stand dressed in living green;
So to the Jews old Canaan stood,
While Jordan rolled between.

Oh, could we make our doubts remove,
Those gloomy doubts that rise,
And see the Canaan that we love
With unbeclouded eyes.
Could we but climb where Moses stood
And view the landscape o’er,
Not Jordan’s stream nor death’s cold flood
Should fright us from the shore.