As he beholds the glory of his Lord, And looks within the pearly gates ajar, Snaps, in an instant, life's frail brittle cord, And he is where the holy angels are. So is it, likewise, with most dying saints; They see e'en here the beatific sight; The spirit then breaks thro' this world's restraints, And enters into heaven's effulgent light. Not sorrow snaps the silver cord, but joy; Not woe, but bliss, expands the golden bowl. The pitcher breaks when free from earth's alloy, And fails the wheel when heaven has filled the soul. THE END WE SOUGHT The end we sought is not attained, But wisdom has been won, And thus a higher goal is gained. _That_ like the moon has sadly waned, While _this_ shines as the sun. A shorter route to India's strand Columbus failed to find. That was an object truly grand, But in the wealth of this fair land Grandeur and good combine. ASPIRATION I stand to-day on higher ground Than ever reached before, Yet from this summit I have found, Outlined full many more, Which seem to pierce the vaulted sky, And prove my effort vain But God will set my feet on high, Thro' grace I shall attain. Yet higher still my ideal stands, Its peak but dimly seen, But hope impels, and love commands, And faith discerns its sheen; And when I reach its shining height Heaven's gate will open wide; I'll see the beatific sight, And rest at Jesus' side. MY REST I would not cherish a wish or thought Displeasing, Lord, to Thee; Thy will is good, and with wisdom fraught, And that suffices me. I cannot alter a plan of Thine, And would not if I could; I acquiesce in the will divine, And find my highest good. At times my vessel drifts near the shore, And the beacon lights expire, The surf-capped waves swell more and more, And threaten with ruin dire; But only the surface sea is rough; The ocean's depths are calm, And a star affords me light enough, The Star of Bethlehem. And by its light I discern the sand And rocks along the coast, And turn away toward a fairer land, And standing at my post, I guide my bark thro' the tempest wild, Borne on by wind and tide, Till God receives His weak, erring child, And shelters near His side. "Lo, I come, O Lord, to do Thy will!" Shines from my star divine, And my heart cries out, "In me fulfill Also, Thy wise design." I would not alter a plan of thine If I the power possessed; My will is lost in the will divine, 'Tis here I find my rest. "PAINT ME AS I AM, WARTS AND ALL"--_Cromwell_.