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near shore.
Earth is our little island home,
And heaven the neighboring continent,
Whence winds to every inlet come
With balmiest scent.
And heaven the neighboring continent,
Whence winds to every inlet come
With balmiest scent.
And tenderest whispers thence we hear
From those who lately sailed across.
They love us still; since heaven is near,
Death is not loss.
From those who lately sailed across.
They love us still; since heaven is near,
Death is not loss.
From mountain slopes of breeze and balm,
What melodies arrest the oar!
What memories ripple through the calm!
We '11 keep near shore.
What melodies arrest the oar!
What memories ripple through the calm!
We '11 keep near shore.
By sweet home instincts wafted on,
By all the hopes that life has nursed,
We hasten where the loved have gone,
Who landed first.
By all the hopes that life has nursed,
We hasten where the loved have gone,
Who landed first.
If God be God, then heaven is real:
We need not lose ourselves and Him
In some vast sea of the ideal,
Dreamy and dim.
We need not lose ourselves and Him
In some vast sea of the ideal,
Dreamy and dim.
