Page:The Poets and Poetry of the West.djvu/118

 102 OTWAY CURRY [1830-40. Forth rush the wandering comets ; girt with flames They blend, in order true, with marshaling hosts Of starry worshipers. The unhallowed orbs Of earth-born fire, that cleave the hazy air. Blanched by the flood of uncreated light, Fly with the fleeting winds and misty clouds Back to their homes, and deep in darkness lie. God journeyeth in the heavens. Reful- gent stars, And glittering crowns of prostrate Sera- phim Emboss his burning path. Around him fall Dread powers, dominions, hosts, and kingly thrones. Angels of God — adoring millions — join With spirits pure, redeemed from distant worlds, In choral songs of praise : " Thee we adore, For Thou art mighty. Everlasting spheres Of light and glory in thy presence wait. Time, space, life, light, dominion, majesty, Truth, wisdom — all are thine, Jehovah! Thou First, last, supreme, eternal Potentate ! " THE GREAT HEREAFTER. 'Tis sweet to think, when struggling The goal of life to win. That just beyond the shores of time The better days begin. When through the nameless ages I cast my longing eyes. Before me, like a boundless sea, The Great Hereafter lies. Along its brimming bosom Perpetual summer smiles. And gathers, like a golden robe, Ai'ound the emerald isles. There in the blue long distance, By lulUng breezes fanned, I seem to see the flowermg groves Of old Beulah's land. And far beyond the islands That gem the wave serene, The image of the cloudless shore Of holy Heaven is seen. Unto the Great Hereafter — Aforetime dim and dark — I freely now and gladly, give Of life the wandering bark. And in the far-off haven. When shadowy seas are passed. By angel hands its quivering sails Shall all be furled at last ! LINES OF THE LIFE TO COME. Our spirit seeks a far-off clime. All beautiful and pure, Where living light and sinless time, Forevermore endure. We spend our long and weaiy hours In dreaming of that shore. Where all those perished hopes of oui*s Have swiftly gone before. And do you yearn and strive in vain To rend tlie enshrouding pall, That round us, in this life of pain. Lies Uke a dungeon wall ? Yes ! for it clogs our halting thought, And dims our feeble light ; — How hardly is our spirit taught To shape its upward flight.