REVELATIONS OF GOD by Fannie Bolton

International Tract and Missionary Society · Oakland, Cal. · Jul 15, 1889

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 15, No. 27.

REVELATIONS OF GOD.

By Fannie Bolton

BY FANNIE BOLTON.

I saw the heart of sunset beat its hues From west to east o'er all the tender skies. Rose, purple, gold, flushed through the dainty blues, As though emotion thrilled the radiant dies. A glorious joy leaped up in heart and soul, As though some angel's hand traced high above In words of light on heaven's illumined scroll, "The colors of the world are love,—God's love."

Beneath the sky, the hills took up the flame, Reflecting the radiance with a light More delicate, ineffable. There came From all the fields a pæon of delight.

The green trees clapped their leaves in all the glow, The rivers flashed, like diamond circlets riven, The ponds were amethysts. The fields below Flushed in the color of the changing heaven.

Then leaped the wind, soft rushing, like a river, Swelling crescendoes, thrilling, as it blent In sounds of tenderness, that set aquiver My heart, as strings of some fine instrument.

And still more subtle than the shades of light The wind swept through me, as from worlds above; And voices whispered in a rapture, "Write, The sounds of all the world are love,—God's love."

All, all that's fair and fine is but his robes Trailing through all the curse of sin and woe. The tiniest flowers of earth, the mightiest globes, But tell the majesty we long to know.

I sing it as I see the sunshine bright, I sing it as the tender shadows rove, I know it in my soul with deep delight, The beauties of the earth and heaven are love.

But ah! 'tis but the garments of the Lord; 'Tis but the clouds that fold him from our sight. How is that majesty to be adored Whose outer darkness makes for us such light?

What will the radiance be, when we shall see The matchless splendor of that world above? Oh! what the joy be then to thee and me, When we behold the majesty of love?

Oh! here we long for love. We reach our hands. And yet, we could not look upon him now; But, some day, when the graves break in our lands, And immortality shall crown our brows, Then, with strong eyes that will not blur or dim, We'll worship nearer, see, and know above What is the glorious beauty hid in him, Who makes all beauty teach us he is love.