IT DOTH NOT YET APPEAR.
“It doth not yet appear what we shall be;”
The goal, the crown, but dimly we discern,—
For evermore from sin and sorrow free,
In that blest world for which we often yearn.
“It doth not yet appear what we shall be;”
Eye hath not seen, nor was it ever told—
The height of honor we shall share with Thee,
Enthroned in light and rapture manifold.
“It doth not yet appear what we shall be,”—
Redeemed from death and glorified above;
Enough, dear Lord, that we shall be like thee,
In that eternal life of cloudless love.
THE RAINBOW ROUND THE THRONE.
The sunshine and the shadow—alternately they flow
Across the fields of ether, across our hearts below;
The gloom and glory blending in beauty manifold,
The mists of morning ending in evening’s gates of gold.
Forever and forever our human lives are so—
The sunshine and the shadow, alternate weal and woe;
Perpetually ascending, earth’s mingled mirth and moan,—
But lo! above us bending, the rainbow round the throne!
Hold fast the heavenly vision; this hope thy soul sustain—
All things shall work together for thy eternal gain;
The mystery of sorrow, the mystery of pain,
Shall sure, some happy morrow, to every heart be plain.
