Sweet is thy noontide calm ,
Over the hearts of the weary,
Breathing thy waves of balm.
Beautiful valley of Eden !
Home of the pure and blest, . .
How often, amid the wild billows,
I dream of thy rest — sweet rest !
2 Over the heart of the mourner
Shineth thy golden day,
Wafting the songs of the angels
Down from the far-away.
3 There is the home of my Saviour,
There, with the blood-washed throng,
Over the highlands of glory
Rolleth the great new song.