Mal. iii. 17.
There
it is fair,
Where thousand,
thousand flames for evermore
In
God's high palace glow,
No more they light
the dark and misty shore,
As
long ago:
They burn, a crown
of every radiant stone,
For ever and for
ever round the throne,
Christ's
diadem.
Eternal lamps that
never can be dim,
Fed by the golden
oil that flows to them
For ever from the
Heart whence flowed the Blood,
They shine with
light of every precious gem,
Light
of the joy of God.
Past, pain and
sorrow, and all sighs and tears,
All
shadows and all stains,
The former things
of all the ancient years,
And
Christ remains.
All swallowed up in
fulness of the joy
Where
Jesus is--
For spirit, soul,
and body, one employ,
To
share His bliss.
There do the lips
of babes tell forth His ways,
His
wonders deep;
And sweet their
song, and innocent their praise,
For they have known
but Heaven's unsullied days
And
earth's short sleep,
To wake in
everlasting gladness there,
Where
all is fair.
G. T. S.
