HER BIRTHDAY IN HEAVEN.
Her birthday in Heaven! there is joy in the thought,
A joy with the heart's deepest tenderness fraught;
Could human love ask for its hark of hope more
Than anchorage safe on that beautiful shore?
A joy with the heart's deepest tenderness fraught;
Could human love ask for its hark of hope more
Than anchorage safe on that beautiful shore?
Yes! anchorage safe—for never again,
Shall tempests assail her, nor sorrow, nor pain;
No sharp throb of anguish shall darken that brow,
Now cloudless and pure as the fresh-fallen snow.
Shall tempests assail her, nor sorrow, nor pain;
No sharp throb of anguish shall darken that brow,
Now cloudless and pure as the fresh-fallen snow.
The rich gifts of love thou hadst thought to bestow,
She needeth them not where the crystal streams flow;
For there, in that clime, where no mortal hath been,
The treasures are found human eye hath not seen.
She needeth them not where the crystal streams flow;
For there, in that clime, where no mortal hath been,
The treasures are found human eye hath not seen.
