Note.—Let imagination picture the home of the saved fair and beautiful as it may, yet remember that it will be more glorious than our brightest imagination can conceive. See 1 Cor. 2:9.
O, sweetly through the gloomy years
That roll their dimming veil between,
The promised goodly land appears,
Arrayed in never-fading green!
And from that peaceful, happy clime,
Transporting bursts of song arise,
And, rolling through the mists of time,
Tell us of joy that never dies.