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GLIMPSES OF "HOME."

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Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Oct 22, 1896

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 22, No. 42.

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GLIMPSES OF "HOME."

By Anna Agee

BY ANNA AGEE.
THE ground was frozen and stiff and hard; The wind came chill over tree and sward; The snowflakes were silently flutt'ring down, Covering from sight old Mother Earth's brown.
While watching the snowflakes merrily fall O'er village and farm, fast clothing them all With soft, downy robes of pure, spotless white, Gleaming like gems in the pale, wintry light,
Making a picture more lovely than art,— Than man to his canvas can ever impart,— The past was recalled; and memory's chimes Told of longings to visit other countries and climes.
Our hearts may reach out toward the grand scenes of earth; Renowned spots to view may seem of great worth; But God, in his infinite wisdom, may see 'Tis best that those wishes ungranted may be.
But, looking by faith, my eyes now behold A country whose grandeur words cannot unfold,— A country we all, if we will, yet shall see If we'll turn from our sins and to Jesus now flee.
Fadeless the flowers; the grass living green, Waving in breeze, with silver-gold sheen; Through shady vales flow fern-bordered rills; Blithe are the birds, and glad their sweet trills.
The fair Tree of Life, bearing twelve luscious fruits, On each side the River of Life plants its roots; Perfect in beauty, all nature shines bright; Forever has flown sin's dark, dismal night.
No harm can befall, no tempter annoy; There's nothing to fear, naught to hurt or destroy; By the lamb lies the lion, grown gentle and mild, Each played with and petted and led by a child.
There's never a sickness, no pain, death, nor woe; There storms never come, chill winds never blow; Naught but joy, endless joy, undimmed perfect bliss; Will you freely surrender that blest world for this?
Christ our Redeemer is there, Christ our King; 'Tis his praises the ransomed with rich music sing; The hills everlasting reëcho the strain,— All nature shouts anthems to him who was slain.
A city I see whose mansions outshine The finest of castles, of earth's piles sublime; Of gold are those mansions, of jasper its wall; The glory of God gives splendor to all.
Its gates are of pearl; its streets, too, are gold; This city resplendent shall never grow old; Its bejeweled foundations are sparkling with light; Its dwellers are dressed in robes clean and white.
Soon Jesus will come, his face beaming love, To gather his children for "home" now above; World after world will be viewed by our eyes As we, by the angels, are borne through the skies.
But our sins must be cleansed, every stain washed away, Would we wing our glad flight with Jesus that day. Shall we not to him give our sins and our care, That he for that journey you and me can prepare?
His power is needed our sins to remove, And fit us to live in the kingdom of love; His might is so great, his affection so deep, We may trust him the victory to gain and to keep.
"I'll bring you to Zion," the Saviour doth say; "I'll lead you safely along the strait way." Then O, let him lead us, and free us from sin, The city's gates open, and say, "Enter in"!
Knoxville, Tenn.