Produced by Gerard Arthus, Stephen Blundell and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net NO SECT IN HEAVEN. PUBLISHED BY H. LONGSTRETH, 1336 CHESTNUT ST. 1861. NO SECT IN HEAVEN. Talking of sects till late one eve, Of the various doctrines the saints believe, That night I stood in a troubled dream, By the side of a darkly flowing stream. And a "Churchman" down to the river came: When I heard a strange voice call his name, "Good father, stop; when you cross this tide You must leave your robes on the other side." But the aged father did not mind, And his long gown floated out behind, As down to the stream his way he took, His pale hands clasping a gilt-edged book. "I'm bound for heaven, and when I'm there, I shall want my book of Common Prayer; And though I put on a starry crown, I should feel quite lost without my gown." Then he fixed his eye on the shining track, But his gown was heavy, and held him back, And the poor old father tried in vain A single step in the flood to gain. I saw him again on the other side, But his silk gown floated on the tide; And no one asked in that blissful spot, Whether he belonged to "_the_ Church" or not. Then down to the river a Quaker strayed, His dress of a sober hue was made; "My coat and hat must be all of gray, I cannot go any other way." Then he buttoned his coat straight up to his chin, And staidly, solemnly, waded in, And his broad-brimmed hat he pulled down tight Over his forehead, so cold and white. But a strong wind carried away his hat; A moment he silently sighed over that, And then, as he gazed to the farther shore, The coat slipped off, and was seen no more. As he entered heaven, his suit of gray Went quietly sailing--away--away, And none of the angels questioned him About the width of his beaver's brim. Next came Dr. Watts, with a bundle of Psalms Tied nicely up in his aged arms, And hymns as many, a very wise thing, That the people in heaven, "all round," might sing. But I thought that he heaved an anxious sigh, As he saw that the river ran broad and high, And looked rather surprised as, one by one, The Psalms and Hymns in the wave went down. And after him, with his MSS., Came Wesley, the pattern of godliness, But he cried, "Dear me, what shall I do? The water has soaked them through and through." And there on the river, far and wide, Away they went down the swollen tide, And the saint astonished, passed through alone, Without his manuscripts, up to the throne. Then, gravely walking, two saints by name, Down to the stream together came, But as they stopped at the river's brink, I saw one saint from the other shrink.