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POEMS.
Who first will the robe of the ransomed wear,
In a land where they never know grief or care?
Which first will pass through the pearly gate,
Where the loved for the loving ones smiling wait?
In a land where they never know grief or care?
Which first will pass through the pearly gate,
Where the loved for the loving ones smiling wait?
Whose eyes will first gaze on the crystal sea,
And the place where the many mansions be?
Whose lips will first echo the glad refrain,
Of no more night, and no more pain?
And the place where the many mansions be?
Whose lips will first echo the glad refrain,
Of no more night, and no more pain?
Which first will it be? in earth, air, sky,
Will none to my questioning heart reply—
As noiselessly steal away weeks, days, hours,
Still ripening the fruits and unfolding the flowers:
Will none to my questioning heart reply—
As noiselessly steal away weeks, days, hours,
Still ripening the fruits and unfolding the flowers:
Till chill winds of Autumn their beauty shall blast,
And Winter her snowy shroud over them cast?
I waited and hearkened in stillness unbroken,
Till deep in my soul, were these mentor words spoken—
And Winter her snowy shroud over them cast?
I waited and hearkened in stillness unbroken,
Till deep in my soul, were these mentor words spoken—
"What matter to thee, in thy sweet home of three,
Which first shall set sail on the silent sea?
Heed, listen, and learn—the stars blaze and burn,
They rise, fade, and vanish, each, all in their turn:
Which first shall set sail on the silent sea?
Heed, listen, and learn—the stars blaze and burn,
They rise, fade, and vanish, each, all in their turn:
