 | Poems by John Howard Bryant |  |
129
THE HILLS OF PARADISE.
Each moment, Lord of might,
Before thy mighty breath,
What myriads springs to life and light,
What myriads fall in death.
Before thy mighty breath,
What myriads springs to life and light,
What myriads fall in death.
The broad full stream flows on,
Forevermore the same;
All coming from the dim unknown,
All going whence they came.
Forevermore the same;
All coming from the dim unknown,
All going whence they came.
Does then the grave hold all
In its insatiate deep?
Is the last summons but a call
To an eternal sleep?
In its insatiate deep?
Is the last summons but a call
To an eternal sleep?
Nay, put thy trust in God,
And faith shall ope thine eyes,
To see before thee fair and broad,
The hills of Paradise.
And faith shall ope thine eyes,
To see before thee fair and broad,
The hills of Paradise.
Beyond the dark abyss,
Shall loom the radiant shore—
Heaven's boundless realm of love and bliss,
Where grief is known no more.
Shall loom the radiant shore—
Heaven's boundless realm of love and bliss,
Where grief is known no more.
130
Where the Good Shepherd brings
His fair unnumbered flock,
To pastures ever fresh, and springs
Fed from the Eternal Rock.
His fair unnumbered flock,
To pastures ever fresh, and springs
Fed from the Eternal Rock.
Tents where the patriarchs rest,
Temples, vast, high and broad,
On whose grand structure is impressed,
The handiwork of God.
Temples, vast, high and broad,
On whose grand structure is impressed,
The handiwork of God.
And homes, where loved ones gone.
On the resplendent height,
Clothed in the brightness of the dawn,
Dwell in supreme delight.
On the resplendent height,
Clothed in the brightness of the dawn,
Dwell in supreme delight.
| Poems by John Howard Bryant | |