The Blessed Years of Heaven by L. D. Santee

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Aug 31, 1911

The Blessed Years of Heaven

By L. D. Santee

L. D. SANTEE

I AM growing older, older, As the years are passing by, But my hopes have ne'er grown colder, Of a home in yonder sky; Even now that hope is dearer Than the joys that earth has given, And I feel each day I'm nearer To the blessed years of heaven.

Beautiful in all their glory Are the mansions I shall see; Wondrous is the thrilling story That the Lord has died for me. All the prophecies are clearer That the sacred Word has given; I am only so much nearer To the blessed years of heaven.

Let young manhood's season leave me, And old age steal on apace, All these changes can not grieve me, Or their shadows cloud my face; For the blessed hope supernal To my waiting heart is given,— I shall share the joys eternal, In the blessed years of heaven.

O, the blessed years of heaven, Where no life shall e'er grow old, Where the gleaming walls are jasper, And the streets are paved with gold! We shall meet the loved and loving, Where no ties will e'er be riven, There shall gladness reign eternal In the blessed years of heaven.

Moline, Ill.