HEAVEN—HEAVENS.
The heavens declare the glory of God.—Psalm xix. 1.
All the host of heaven shall be dissolved, and the heavens shall be rolled together as a scroll: and all their host shall fall down, as the leaf falleth off from the vine, and as a falling fig from the fig tree.—Isaiah, xxxiv. 4.
Lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal;
For where your treasure is there will your heart be also.—Matthew, vi. 20, 21.
For we know that if our earthly house of this tabernacle were dissolved, we have a building of God, an house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens.—II. Corinthians, v. 1.
An inheritance incorruptible and undefiled, and that fadeth not away, reserved in heaven.—I. Peter, i. 4.
We, according to His promise, look for new heavens and a new earth, wherein dwelleth righteousness.—II. Peter, iii. 13.
In having all things, and not Thee, what have I?
Not having Thee, what have my labours got?
Let me enjoy but Thee, what further crave I?
And having Thee alone, what have I not?
I wish not sea nor land; nor would I be
Possessed of Heaven, Heaven unpossessed of Thee.
Quarles.
Shall we serve heaven
With less respect than we do minister
To our gross selves?
Shakspere.
Plenteous of grace, descend from high,
Rich in thy seven-fold energy!
Thou strength of his Almighty hand,
Whose power does heaven and earth command.
Dryden.
Inquirer cease, petitions yet remain,
Which heaven may hear, nor deem religion vain.
*****
Still raise for good the supplicated voice,
But leave to heaven the measure and the choice.
Dr. Johnson.
Heaven’s the perfection of all that can
Be said or thought, riches, delight, or harmony,
Health, beauty; and all these not subject to
The waste of time, but in their height eternal.
Shirley.
Heav’n is a great way off, and I shall be
Ten thousand years in travel, yet ’twere happy
If I may find a lodging there at last,
Though my poor soul get thither upon crutches.
Shirley.
I sat, one day, upon a stone,
’Rapt in a musing fit, alone,
And resting on my hand my head,
Thus to myself, in thought, I said—
“How in these times of care and strife,
Shall I direct my fleeting life?
Three precious jewels I require
To satisfy my heart’s desire:
The first is honour, bright and clear;
The next is wealth; but (far more dear!)
The third is Heaven’s approving smile.”
Then, after I had mused awhile,
I saw that it was vain to pine
For these three pearls in one small shrine;
To find within one heart a place
For honour, wealth, and heavenly grace,
For how can one, in days like these,
Heaven and the world together please?
Gostick, from Walter Von Der Vogelweide.
As through the artist’s intervening glass
Our eye observes the distant planets pass,
A little we discover, but allow
That more remains unseen than art can show:
So whilst our mind its knowledge would improve,
(Its feeble eye intent on things above,)
High as we may we lift our reason up,
By Faith directed, and confirmed by Hope:
Yet we are able only to survey
Dawnings of beams, and promises of day.
Heaven’s fuller effluence mocks our dazzled sight;
Too great its swiftness, and too strong its light:
But soon the ’mediate clouds shall be dispelled;
The sun shall then be face to face beheld,
In all his robes, with all his glory on,
Seated sublime on his meridian throne.
Prior.
Friends, even in Heaven, one happiness would miss,
Should they not know each other when in bliss.
Bishop Ken.
All hail! all hail! resplendent vault, so wondrously display’d,
Abyss, where the Eternal’s hand the scattered scene array’d;
He gave them light; His mighty hand suspended them alone;
And ever from the chilling north, to India’s sultry zone,
In every region of the west, and isle of southern sea,
All raise, Oh! glorious firmament, their suppliant glance to thee!
Vast sea of air, with countless gems, I love on thee to gaze!
Oh empyreal space! Oh stars! I love your softened rays;
Mysterious torches; ye have made the universe so bright!
Yet from this temple far above, ye bring your borrowed light!
What rapture fills thy spirit, borne on contemplation’s wing,
What charms, oh, beauteous canopy! thy varied aspects bring.
From the French of Anna H. P. Le Chatelain.
This world is all a fleeting show,
For man’s illusion given;
The smiles of joy, the tears of woe
Deceitful shine, deceitful flow,
There’s nothing true but heaven.
And false the light on glory’s plume,
As fading hues of even,
And love, and hope, and beauty’s bloom,
Are blossoms gathered for the tomb:
There’s nothing bright but heaven.
Moore.
To live in darkness—in despair to die—
Is this indeed the boon to mortals given?
Is there no port—no rock of refuge nigh?
There is—to those who fix their anchor-hope in heaven.
Turn then, O man! and cast all else aside;
Direct thy wandering thoughts to things above—
Low at the cross bow down—in that confide,
Till doubt be lost in faith, and bliss secured in love.
C. C. Colton.
The world, in all its boasted grandeur proud,
In all its stores of dazzling splendour bright,
Is but a transient, unsubstantial cloud,
Which the sun skirts with momentary light:
Anon, the assailing winds impetuous rise,
Black lowers the tempest in the sullen sky;
Before the driving blast the vision dies,
And all the vivid tints of splendour fly:
Pass but a moment, every ray is gone:
Nor e’en a vestige left where the bright glories shone.
And shall we, for this visionary gleam,
Degenerate, swerve from Heaven’s immortal plan?
Give up, for vanity’s light airy dream,
The nobler heritage reserved for man?
Though rocks their cragged heads in ambush hide,
Though storms and tempests sweep the angry main,
While Hope’s fair star shines forth, auspicious guide,
E’en tempests, storms, and rocks oppose in vain.
Safe, ’mid the ocean’s iterated force,
The sacred vessel shapes her Heaven-directed course.
Samuel Hayes.
There is an hour of peaceful rest,
To mourning wanderers given;
There is a tear for souls distrest,
A balm for every wounded breast,
’Tis found above—in heaven!
There is a soft, a downy bed,
’Tis fair as breath of even;
A couch for weary mortals spread,
Where they may rest their aching head,
And find repose in heaven!
Anon.