What shall the eyes that wait for him survey,
Where his own presence gloriously appears
In worlds that were not founded for a day,
But for eternal years?
XVI.
And if at seasons this world’s undelight
Oppressed him, or the hollow at its heart,
One glance at those enduring mansions bright
Made gloomier thoughts depart;
XVII.
Till many times the sweetness of the thought
Of an eternal country—where it lies
Removed from care and mortal anguish, brought
Sweet tears into his eyes.
XVIII.
Thus, not unsolaced, he longwhile abode,
Filling all dreary melancholy time,
And empty spaces of the heart with God,
And with this hope sublime:
XIX.
Even thus he lived, with little joy or pain,
Drawn thro’ the channels by which men receive—
Most men receive the things which for the main
Make them rejoice or grieve.