“WE shall be changed;” but yet the eye shall tell,
Among the multitude of that blest place,
Those that were dear ones, whom we loved so well,
And every lineament they wore shall trace. Changed, yet the same! a paradox, indeed,
To us, poor gazers through the darkened glass;
Great is the mystery of that life we read,—
The dead like shadows o’er our vision pass. A body glorified and clothed with light,
The face all radiant with a perfect bliss,
Thus shall appear to the enraptured sight,
In yonder world, whom we have loved in this. Their voice were needless, for we’d know them though
The lips ne’er opened and pronounced our name;
But they shall speak, and sweetly will it flow,
Their voice, far sweeter, yet a voice the same. We’ll rove with them through fields of living green,
Where flowers perennial in rare beauty blow;
And o’er the hills whose fragrant sides between
The stream of water crystal clear does flow. The mind expanded, and expanding still,
Grasping for aye the verities of Heaven;
Oh! what full bliss will then the bosom thrill,
What “joy unspeakable” to us be given! There we shall talk in tireless converse sweet;
Talk of the theme redemption, and the love
That gently brought us to the Saviour’s feet,
The mercy that has seated us above. And there the children whom I’ve laid in earth,
With many tears, will, with extended arms,
Run swift to meet me, clad in Jesus’ worth,
And beautiful in their augmented charms. Then will these arms, that oft, in sweet caress,
Have circled them and drawn them to this breast,
Again enfold them; all with love no less
Than that between us when they passed to rest.