We have not seen, we cannot see,
The happy land above,
From sin and death and suffering free,
Where all is peace and love.

We only see the path is long
By which we have to go;
We only feel the foes are strong
Who seek to work us woe.

We have not seen, we cannot see
The cross our Master bore,
With all its pains, that we might be
The slaves of sin no more.

We only think it hard to part
With every pleasant sin,
And give to God a perfect heart,
And make Him Lord within.

We walk by faith, and not by sight;
And, blessèd saint, like thee,
We sometimes doubt if faith tells right,
Because we cannot see.

Upon the promise we would lean
Thy doubting heart received;
Blessèd are they that have not seen,
And that have yet believed.