“THE DESERT SHALL REJOICE AND BLOSSOM AS THE ROSE.”
By E. L. Sands
There are flowers that never wither—
Never lose their sweet perfume,
But are blossoming forever.
In a land where all is bloom;
Where the skies are kissed with sunshine,
And their glories never fade.
Where the splendor knows no night time
’Neath the bowers of peaceful shade. Where the cedars on the mountains,
In their dress of evergreen,
Where bright bowers and flowing fountains
Through eternity are seen;
And the silver wavelets flowing,
With a lullaby of rest.
And the heavenly zephyrs blowing,
Fan the love-land of the blest. We are going to share the pleasures
Of that far-off land of bliss,
For we’re laying up our treasures
In a fairer world than this;
Though our footsteps often weary,
In the winding of the way,
And though all around is dreary,
O’er us beams a cheering ray; For our Father, who hath made us
Heirs in glory with his Son,
Knoweth how to kindly aid us,
When our work is almost done;
Knoweth how to send the Spirit,
With the promise he has given,
Of the home we shall inherit,
When we reach the gates of Heaven. There’s a voice in tones of pity,
Speaks to cheer this heart of mine,
Whispers to me of a city
Where the walls of jasper shine;
And with grand prophetic story,
Of the beauty of its King,
Of his dazzling throne of glory,
And the song the ransomed sing. This poor life with all its sorrows,
Is fast hastening away;
Just a few more brief to-morrows
Bring us to the promised day;
For our “Father’s house” is nearer,
Where the “many mansions” be,
And the hope of meeting dearer,
On the waveless crystal sea. There the saints with crowns immortal,
And the palms that victors bear,
Enter in the heavenly portal,
They have gained by faith and prayer;
While their harp-strings wake the chorus
Of the anthems of the blest,
With the glory ever o’er us,
Crowns, and palms, and robe, and rest.