THE BEAUTIES OF HEAVEN.
By L. E. MILLER
Transporting theme! What pen can portray it? What tongue describe the beauties of that heavenly land. There is the beautiful city of our God, whose foundations are of precious stones, whose gates are of pearl, and whose streets are of pure gold, as it were, transparent glass. There is the pure river of water of life, clear as crystal, proceeding out of the throne of God, and on either side of it is the tree of life, which yieldeth its fruit every month. This beautiful city needeth not the light of the sun, neither of the moon, to shine in it; for the glory of God doth lighten it, and the Lamb is the light thereof. The inhabitants of that beautiful land never say, I am sick; for there is known no sorrow, nor sighing, neither pain, nor anguish. There all tears are wiped away, and the rays of the Sun of Righteousness forever warm and gladden their hearts. Oh! beautiful country! Delightful land! Can we, poor, weak mortals, gain an inheritance in that heavenly land. Can we ever reach that beautiful land of rest? Shall we overcome, and inhabit that sweet home of rest, “Where no storms ever beat on the glittering strand,
While the years of eternity roll”? Him that overcometh will I make a pillar in the temple of my God, and he shall go no more out, he shall be clothed in white raiment, and golden harps shall be given unto him, and palms of victory, and he shall inherit all things, and join that innumerable company that shall come from the east, the west, the north, and the south, in that song of praise unto Him that hath loved us, and washed us from our sins in his own blood, to him be glory forever and ever. Oh! come, let us heed the admonitions of the holy and just One, that we may have a right to the tree of life, and enter through the gates into the city. “Let sorrow’s rudest tempests blow,
Each cord on earth to sever,
Our King says come, and there’s our home,
Forever, Oh! forever!”