Should robe with its brightness this world in its woe!
Yet the soft crystals so tenderly falling,
Speak to my heart as if angels were calling,
Lovingly, earnestly, bidding me come,
Offering this soul of mine rest and a home;
Away in the mansion of glory above,
I’ll plead for admission through pardoning love,
There, robed in that mantle God’s grace can bestow,
I’ll rival the whiteness of beautiful snow.
The authorship of this poem has been very much discussed over here in the United States. The following verses, which went the rounds a few years ago, were keenly enjoyed by the reading world”:—