Was I thinking of battlefields with a saddened heart again? No, the cloud had lifted from my soul; I could look for something better, something more world-wide in its effects than even this terrible war. And as I stood thinking all this, the words came up to me that they were singing, as they tramped along the silent moonlit road, at the foot of the forest-clad hills:
“Coming, coming, yes, they are,
Coming, coming, from afar;
All to meet in plains of glory,
All to sing His praises sweet:
What a chorus, what a meeting,
With the family complete!”