THE LOVE OF HEAVEN by L. G. Stowell

Publishing Committee · Rochester, N. Y. · Sep 2, 1852

THE LOVE OF HEAVEN.

By L. G. Stowell

BY L. G. STOWELL.

I love, I love that world so bright, Its pleasant scenes my heart delight; Where I shall breathe the balmy air Of heaven, perfumed with odors rare.

I love the fruit of life's fair tree, Its loveliness looks rare to me; I love the crystal fount so pure, That flows beneath life's tree, I'm sure.

There shall I view the opening flowers, That bloom among the shady bowers, Supplied by life's pellucid stream, So gently flowing from the main.

The Ivy, Balsam and the Thyme, The towering Oak, the Elm, the Pine, Will grace that land where all the blest Beneath their peaceful shade may rest.

There, bright arrayed, the unnumbered throng, Like Seraph forms, shall range along, All marshaled on the expansive plain, Obsequious, through heaven's wide domain.

Their music through heaven's arches, ring, While anthems sweet of praise they sing, As o'er the blissful fields they roam Within their bright, elysian home.

Then, shall this love within my soul, Cease when the seas forget to roll? No,—I shall mount where Seraphs shine, And strike the harps to love divine!

Rochester, N. Y., Sept. 1st, 1852.