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A YEAR IN HEAVEN.
A year of blessedness; wherein
Not one dim cloud hath crossed thy soul;
No frail mortality's control :
Nor care world-weary made thee pine ;
Hath found no language for, is thine.
Can sum thy added glory now?
The angel ranks that lowly bow,
Unfaltering, where rapt spirits trod, Nor pausing 'mid their circles bright,
Thou tendest inward unto God.
progress in the lore That's only learned in Heaven ; thy mind Unclogged of clay, and free to soar,
Hath left the realms of doubt behind ; And wondrous things which finite thought
In vain essayed to solve, appear To thy untasked inquiries, fraught
With explanations strangely clear.
As held it here in needful thrall :
And thou may'st search and know them all.
A year of love ; thy yearning heart
Was always tender, e'en to tears With sympathies, whose sacred art
Made holy all thy cherished years ;
Had overborne the finite, now
And burns upon thy radiant brow:
For thou those hands' dear clasp hast felt,
Where still the nail-prints are displayed ;
Which wears the scars the thorns have made.
A year without thee; I had thought
My orphaned heart would break and die
Or soothed the tears it could not dry.
Before the human grief I bear;
That trembles on my lips in prayer ;
Thou praising, while I vainly thrill;
The distance ever widening still.
A year of tears to me; to thee,
The end of thy probation's strife,
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,
sound of sin; And yet no voice, no whisper comes floating down from
thee, 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, Nor dream our flower of comfort a cool and distant star,
Heaven is but life made richer; therein can be no loss :
That veil 'twixt earth and heaven a breath might waft aside:
And half we feel thee leaning from thy deep calm of bliss,
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,
came', Love chime the hours immortal, in earth and heaven the
" A Little While."
FOR the peace which floweth as a river,
Making life's desert places bloom and smile !
Amid the shadows of earth's "little while !"
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,
with weary steps through noisy ways; Then to pour forth the fragrant oil of gladness,
And clasp the girdle round the robe of praise.
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 Pickering lamp to trim,
To haste to meet him with the bridal-hymn.
And he who is himself the Gift and Giver
The future glory and the present smile,
And then a hush of rest, divinely granted ;
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,
A feverish sleep, a heart oppressed and aching; And then a little water-cruse to find
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 ;
For all my wants and woes, his loving-kindness; For darkest shades, the shining of God's face,
And Christ's own hand to lead me in my blindness.
What then? A shadowy valley, lone and dim;
And then, a deep and darkly rolling river; And then a flood of light, a seraph's hymn, And God's own smile forever and forever!