The love that lived through all the stormy past, And meekly with my harsher nature bore, And deeper grew, and tenderer to the last. Shall it expire with life, and be no more? A happier lot than mine, and larger light, Await thee there; for thou hast bowed thy will In cheerful homage to the rule of right, And lovest all, and renderest good for ill. For me, the sordid cares in which I dwell, Shrink and consume my heart, as heat the scroll; And wrath has left its scar--that fire of hell Has left its frightful scar upon my soul. Yet though thou wear'st the glory of the sky, Wilt thou not keep the same belovèd name, The same fair thoughtful brow, and gentle eye, Lovelier in heaven's sweet climate, yet the same? Shalt thou not teach me, in that calmer home, The wisdom that I learned so ill in this-- The wisdom which is love--till I become Thy fit companion in that land of bliss? WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT * * * * * HEAVEN. That clime is not like this dull clime of ours; All, all is brightness there; A sweeter influence breathes around its flowers, And a benigner air. No calm below is like that calm above, No region here is like that realm of love; Earth's softest spring ne'er shed so soft a light, Earth's brightest summer never shone so bright. That sky is not like this sad sky of ours, Tinged with earth's change and care; No shadow dims it, and no rain-cloud lowers; No broken sunshine there: One everlasting stretch of azure pours Its stainless splendor o'er those sinless shores; For there Jehovah shines with heavenly ray, And Jesus reigns, dispensing endless day. The dwellers there are not like those of earth,-- No mortal stain they bear,-- And yet they seem of kindred blood and birth; Whence and how came they there? Earth was their native soil; from sin and shame, Through tribulation, they to glory came; Bond-slaves delivered from sin's crushing load, Brands plucked from burning by the hand of God. Yon robes of theirs are not like those below; No angel's half so bright; Whence came that beauty, whence that living glow, And whence that radiant white? Washed in the blood of the atoning Lamb, Fair as the light these robes of theirs became; And now, all tears wiped off from every eye, They wander where the freshest pastures lie, Through all the nightless day of that unfading sky! ANONYMOUS. * * * * * THE TWO WORLDS. Two worlds there are. To one our eyes we strain, Whose magic joys we shall not see again; Bright haze of morning veils its glimmering shore. Ah, truly breathed we there Intoxicating air-- Glad were our hearts in that sweet realm of Nevermore.