A noble feeling each step impelling,
They gained the home of their Father soon.
That ample city shall be their dwelling,
Whose light depends not on sun and moon:
For greater light,
Than the sun containeth,
Has He, whose might
From the throne there reigneth,
With grace to all in that city stay;
And life and bliss doth His glance convey!
And room for all, who, in faith, are hoping,
For all is room in the Promised Land!
And, like, when fig-trees their buds are oping
You know that summer is near at hand;
Thus, when the chill
Of your evening broaches,
You feel, with thrill,
That the friend approaches,
To lead you homeward, where joys excel,
United ever with Him to dwell.
When day be cooling, and shadows cover,
With sombre curtains, your hills and dales,
Then, to release you, He near shall hover,
Whose power, great as his love, prevails.
The eye-lids, laded,
A while are closing, ...
The work-tools, jaded,
Benumbed reposing, ...
Another while—and a new career,
In splendor, shall to your view appear!
And earth is new, as is heaven's portal;
The son of heaven and earth is new,
And misses not, since become immortal,
The narrow homestead, whence he withdrew.
It ceased existing,
It ceased attracting—
But faith persisting,
But virtue acting!
You have, before you, the lot prepared,
By abject spirits not seen or shared.
Then wiped away are all tears forever,
All wounds removed by the healing hand....
Again, midst corpses and biers, I never,
With torch inverted and quenched shall stand
In darkness rife;—
But, the torch upturning,
By flames of life
I restore its burning—
And then, Seraphic, with you unite
In songs of praise at the Throne of Light.
