150. Heaven

Oh what is this splendor that beams on me now,
This beautiful sunrise that dawns on my soul.
While faint and far off land and sea lie below.
And under my feet the huge golden clouds roll?

To what mighty king doth this city belong.
With its rich jewelled shrines, and its gardens of
flowers.
With its breaths of sweet incense, its measures of
song.
And the light that is gilding its numberless towers

See! forth from the gates, like a bridal array,
Come the princes of heaven, how bravely they
shine!
'Tis to welcome the strano^er, to show me the way,
And to tell me that all I see round me is mine.

There are millions of saints, in their ranks and
degrees.
And each with a beauty and crown of his own;
And there, far outnumbering the sands of the
seas.
The nine rings of Angels encircle the throne.

And far in the heart of that glorious light
The mighty Apostles are seated in state,
With Joseph and John, who in life's mortal night
Were appointed on Jesus and Mary to wait.

And, still deeper in, Mary's splendor is seen,
Her beautiful self and her choice starry crown;
And all heaven grows bright in the smile of its
Queen,
For the glory of Jesus illumines her throne.

And oh, if the exiles of earth could but win
One sight of the beauty of Jesus above,
From that hour they would cease to be able to sin,
And earth would be heaven; for heaven is love.

But words may not tell of the Vision of Peace,
With its worshipful seeming, its marvellous fires;
"Where the soul is at large, where its sorrows all
cease.
And the gift has outbidden its boldest desires.

No sickness is here, no bleak bitter cold,
No hunger, debt, prison, or weariful toil;
No robbers to rifle our treasures of gold.
No rust to corrupt, and no canker to spoil.

My God! and it was but a short hour ago
That I lay on a bed of unbearable pains;
All was cheerless around me, all weeping and woe;
Now the wailing is changed to angelical strains.

Because I served Thee, were life's pleasures all lost?
Was it gloom, pain, or blood, that won heaven for
me?
Oh no! one enjoyment alone could life boast,
And that, dearest Lord! was my service of Thee.

I had hardly to give; 'twas enough to receive,
Only not to impede the sweet grace from above
And, this first hour in heaven, I can hardly believe
In so great a reward for so little a love.
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^^TcIhT"^