“Neither can they die any more; for they are equal unto the angels; and are the children of God, being the children of the resurrection.” Luke 20:36.
NOT in the sunlight, with robings of glory,
Not in the river whose sands are of gold,
Not in all nature, the wonderful story,
The future of dear ones who sleep in the mold.
Nature, with oceans and grand constellations,
The truths of futurity never has taught.
Knowledge must come from divine revelation,
This be our fountain of hope and of thought.
God, by His promise, has lightened death’s pillow.
Lips that are hushed shall be vocal once more.
Hope softly beams on the grave ’neath the willow.
The Day-star arises to shine evermore.
Eyes that are darkened shall shine in their brightness,
Hands that are cold shall caress us again,
Hearts that are pulseless shall thrill in their lightness,
Ne’er to be saddened by sorrow or pain.
God says they’ll waken, to be “as the angels,”
Living and loving, to die nevermore.
Soon we shall meet them with happy evangels,
Meet ne’er to sever on Salem’s bright shore.
Closely the dead lock the portals behind them,
But Jesus has broken the bars of the tomb.
Faith opes the door, and affection can find them,
Joyous, immortal, and resting at home.
