Oh, the misty gray of this "after while,"
With what is its meaning fraught,
As we journey along, mile after mile,
With experience dearly bought?
Does it mean that with love, and perfect trust
And a life that hath no guile,
Brings sure to us, as we're taught it must,
Great joy in this "after while."
With what is its meaning fraught,
As we journey along, mile after mile,
With experience dearly bought?
Does it mean that with love, and perfect trust
And a life that hath no guile,
Brings sure to us, as we're taught it must,
Great joy in this "after while."
Or shall we gaze blankly, with wide staring eyes,
Knowing no love, nor no hate;
Indifferent to all, no glad, sweet surprise
To greet as we stand at the gate;
The loved ones we've lost, now found but to lose,
For if they're the same to us all;
No difference shown, nothing to choose,
'Twill be naught but"wormwood and gall."
Knowing no love, nor no hate;
Indifferent to all, no glad, sweet surprise
To greet as we stand at the gate;
The loved ones we've lost, now found but to lose,
For if they're the same to us all;
No difference shown, nothing to choose,
'Twill be naught but"wormwood and gall."
Oh, better by far, if ties be thus riven,
The grave with its long dreamless sleep;
For even to one"unto whom it is given,"
Twere better, than waken to weep;
Hopes that were cherished through pain-stricken years,
How we watched their bright light 'long the line!
To have them cast down after suffering and fears—
Then that is no Heaven of mine.
The grave with its long dreamless sleep;
For even to one"unto whom it is given,"
Twere better, than waken to weep;
Hopes that were cherished through pain-stricken years,
How we watched their bright light 'long the line!
To have them cast down after suffering and fears—
Then that is no Heaven of mine.
—85—
