The faithless world promiscuous flows, Enrapt in fancy's vision, Allured by sounds, beguiled by shows And empty dreams; they scarcely know There is a brighter heaven. There is an hour of peaceful rest, To mourning wand'rers given; There is a joy for souls distressed, A balm for ev'ry wounded breast – 'Tis found above – in heaven. There is a soft, a downy bed, 'Tis soft as breath of even; A couch for weary mortals spread, Where they may rest the aching head, And find repose – in heaven. There is a home for weary souls, By sin and sorrow driven; Now tossed on life's tempestuous shoals, Where storms arise, and ocean rolls, And all is drear – but heaven. There, faith lifts up her cheerful eye, To brighter prospects given; And views the tempest passing by, The evening shadows quickly fly, And all serene – in heaven. There, fragrant flow'rs immortal bloom, And joys supreme are given: There, joys divine disperse the gloom – Beyond the confines of the tomb Appears the dawn of heaven.