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A YEAR IN HEAVEN.
A year of blessedness; wherein
Not one dim cloud hath crossed thy soul; No sigh of grief, no touch of sin,
No frail mortality's control:
Hath found no language for, is thine.
Can sum thy added glory now?
Unfaltering, where rapt spirits trod,
A year of progress in the lore
That's only learned in Heaven; thy mind
Hath left the realms of doubt behind;
With explanations strangely clear.
As held it here in needful thrall:
A year of love; thy yearning heart
Made holy all thy cherished years;
Had overborne the finite, now
For thou those hands' dear clasp hast felt,
Which wears the scars the thorns have made.
A year without thee; I had thought
Or soothed the tears it could not dry.
Before the human grief I bear;
Thou praising, while I vainly thrill;
A year of tears to me; to thee,
The portal of immortal life :
To thee the palm of victory given.—
A Year in Heaven.
NE year among the angels, beloved, thou hast been, One year has heaven's white portal shut back the sound of sin;
And yet no voice, no whisper comes floating down from
To tell us what glad wonder a year of heaven may be.
A YEAR IN HEAVEN.
Our hearts before it listen,-the beautiful closed gate:
Thou lovedst all things lovely when walking with us here: Now from the heights of heaven seems earth no longer dear?
We cannot paint thee moving in white-robed state afar,
Heaven is but life made richer; therein can be no loss:
A veil before us only:-thou in the light serene.
That veil 'twixt earth and heaven a breath might waft aside: We breathe one air, beloved, we follow one dear Guide: Passed into open vision, out of our mist and rain,
Thou seest how sorrow blossoms, how peace is won from
And half we feel thee leaning from thy deep calm of bliss, To say of earth, "Beloved, how beautiful it is!
The lilies in this splendor,—the green leaves in this dew ;O earth is also heaven, with God's light clothed anew !"
So, when the sky seems bluer, and when the blossoms wear Some tender mystic shading we never knew was there, We'll say "We see things earthly by light of sainted eyes: She bends where we are gazing, to-day, from paradise."
Because we know thee near us and nearer still to Him
And as in waves of beauty the swift years come and go,
Love chime the hours immortal, in earth and heaven the
'A Little While."
FOR the peace which floweth as a river,
A little while for patient vigil-keeping,
To face the stern, to battle with the strong;
Then bind the sheaves and sing the harvest-song.
A little while to wear the weeds of sadness,
To pace with weary steps through noisy ways;
A little while midst shadow and illusion
To strive by faith love's mysteries to spell :
Then hail sight's verdict, “He doth all things well."
A little while the earthen pitcher taking
To wayside brooks from far-off fountains fed;
Beside the fullness of the fountain-head.
A little while to keep the oil from failing,
A little while faith's flickering lamp to trim,
And he who is himself the Gift and Giver-
'HAT then? Why, then another pilgrim song; And then a hush of rest, divinely granted; And then a thirsty stage (ah me, so long!)
And then a brook, just where it most is wanted.
What then? The pitching of the evening tent;
And then, perchance, a pillow rough and thorny; And then some sweet and tender message, sent
To cheer the faint one for to-morrow's journey.
What then? The wailing of the midnight wind,
Close by my pillow, ready for my waking.
What then? I am not careful to inquire;
I know there will be tears, and fears, and sorrow; And then, a loving Saviour drawing nigher,
And saying "I will answer for the morrow."
What then? For all my sins, his pardoning grace ;
And Christ's own hand to lead me in my blindness.
What then? A shadowy valley, lone and dim;