Where patient Grief leans on her thin white hand,
And smiling, dreams of the unshadowed land—
Look—mortal look—the pathway is not bright—
But mark, it closes in a world of light—
The clouds that hang above its troubled way,
Melt in the distance into perfect day!
Such is the Christian’s Future! There are seen
Eternal sunshine—vales of softest green,
Grottos, savannahs, deep and flowery glades,
Clear sparkling streams and rainbow-lit cascades,