I would not live alway; I ask not to stay
Where storm after storm rises dark o’er the way;
The few lurid mornings that dawn on us here
Are enough for life’s woes, full enough for its cheer. I would not live alway, thus fettered by sin;
Temptation without, and corruption within;
E’en the rapture of pardon is mingled with fears,
And the cup of thanksgiving with penitent tears. I would not live alway; no, welcome the tomb:
Since Jesus hath lain there, I dread not its gloom;
There sweet be my rest, till He bid me arise
To hail Him in triumph descending the skies. Who, who would live alway, away from his God,
Away from yon Heaven, that blissful abode,
Where the rivers of pleasure flow o’er the bright plains,
And the noontide of glory eternally reigns; Where the saints of all ages in harmony meet,
Their Savior and brethren, transported, to greet;
While the anthems of rapture unceasingly roll,
And the smile of the Lord is the feast of the soul? |
