 | Rhymes with reason and without |  |
254
ANGEL VISITS.
Man in Time's low valley standing,
Brief the view his eye commanding,
Never changing nor expanding,
Dimly seen through misty haze;
Circling mountains, purple beaming,
Lured his soul to constant dreaming,—
Ever dreaming, ever scheming,—
On and upward was his gaze.
Brief the view his eye commanding,
Never changing nor expanding,
Dimly seen through misty haze;
Circling mountains, purple beaming,
Lured his soul to constant dreaming,—
Ever dreaming, ever scheming,—
On and upward was his gaze.
Hope portrayed with sweet prevision
Through the haze a land elysian,
Where no sorrowing or division
Marred the paradisial scene;
Where, amid the bliss abounding,
Angel harps were ever sounding
On the ambient air surrounding,
'Mid the smiles of Peace serene.
Through the haze a land elysian,
Where no sorrowing or division
Marred the paradisial scene;
Where, amid the bliss abounding,
Angel harps were ever sounding
On the ambient air surrounding,
'Mid the smiles of Peace serene.
Thus the spirit ever yearning,
Still towards the mountains turning,
With a warm devotion burning,
Pierced at last the obscuring haze;
When, adown the heights eternal,
Bathed in heavenly light diurnal,
Angel bands in garb supernal
Recompensed its watchful gaze.
Still towards the mountains turning,
With a warm devotion burning,
Pierced at last the obscuring haze;
255
Bathed in heavenly light diurnal,
Angel bands in garb supernal
Recompensed its watchful gaze.
Distant seen at first, but nearer
As its vision waxéd clearer,
And the earnest soul sincerer
For a closer union prayed;
When, the righteous prayer availing,
Downward on light pinions sailing,
Angels, with a love ne'er failing,
Their bright homes with mortals made.
As its vision waxéd clearer,
And the earnest soul sincerer
For a closer union prayed;
When, the righteous prayer availing,
Downward on light pinions sailing,
Angels, with a love ne'er failing,
Their bright homes with mortals made.
Joy is that fond union bringing;
Heavenly censers odors flinging,
Harps of gold with joy are ringing,
Tuned to notes of bliss above;
Wreaths from bright celestial bowers,
Wrought in ever-living flowers,
Bind the care-marked brows of ours,
Woven by angelic love.
Heavenly censers odors flinging,
Harps of gold with joy are ringing,
Tuned to notes of bliss above;
Wreaths from bright celestial bowers,
Wrought in ever-living flowers,
Bind the care-marked brows of ours,
Woven by angelic love.
And the heart no more shall sicken,
No more droop when sorrow-stricken;
Spirit ministerings shall quicken
Hope and joy to brightest bloom;
And our voices join the chorus
Of the seraphs round and o'er us,
Hopeful for the race before us,—
Fostering neither doubt nor gloom.
No more droop when sorrow-stricken;
Spirit ministerings shall quicken
Hope and joy to brightest bloom;
And our voices join the chorus
Of the seraphs round and o'er us,
Hopeful for the race before us,—
Fostering neither doubt nor gloom.
256
Still in Time's low valley standing,
Faith now views a scene commanding,
Radiant glories e'er expanding,—
Mist no more the landscape hides!
And still comes a blessed legion
From that fair celestial region,
Who, with tender, sweet adhesion,
In the homes of men abide.
Faith now views a scene commanding,
Radiant glories e'er expanding,—
Mist no more the landscape hides!
And still comes a blessed legion
From that fair celestial region,
Who, with tender, sweet adhesion,
In the homes of men abide.
| Rhymes with reason and without | |