1160
4s & 10s.
The former things are passed away.
Rev. 21:4.
No sickness there,
No weary wasting of the frame away,
No fearful shrinking from the midnight air,
No dread of summer’s bright and fervid ray.
2 No hidden grief,
No wild and cheerless vision of despair,
No vain petition for a swift relief,
No tearful eye, no broken hearts are there.
3 Care has no home
Within that realm of ceaseless praise and song:
Its tossing billows break and melt in foam,
Far from the mansions of the spirit-throng.
4 No parted friends
O’er mournful recollections have to weep!
No bed of death enduring love attends,
To watch the coming of a pulseless sleep.
5 No blasted flower
Or withered bud celestial gardens grow!
No scorching blast or fierce descending shower
Scatters destruction like a ruthless foe!
6 No battle-word
Startles the sacred host with fear and dread!
The song of peace, Creation’s morning heard,
Is sung wherever angel-minstrels tread!
7 Let us depart
If scenes like these await the weary soul!
Look up, thou stricken one! Thy wounded heart,
Shall bleed no more at sorrow’s stern control!
8 With faith our guide,
White-robed and innocent, to lead the way,
Why fear to plunge in Jordan’s rolling tide,
And find the ocean of eternal day!
Neal.