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O, let us exalt our dear Lord and proclaim,
In songs of true gratitude, praise to His name!
As songs of the angels in sweetest accord,
Our thanks and our praises shall rise to the Lord.
-- Zion's Harp # 165

Hymn Information

There Is A Region Lovelier Far




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There is a region lovelier far
Than sages tell or poets sing,
Brighter than noonday glories are,
And softer than the tints of spring.

It is not fanned by summer's gale:
'Tis not refreshed by vernal show'rs;
It never needs the moonbeam pale—
For there are known no evening hours.

No; for that world is ever bright
With purest radiance all its own:
The streams of uncreated light
Flow round it from th'eternal throne.

It is all holy and serene,
The land of glory and repose;
No cloud obscures the radiant scene;
There not a tear of sorrow flows.

In vain the curious, searching eye
May seek to view the fair abode,
Or find it in the starry sky:
It is the dwelling place of God.

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