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WORDS OF CHEER

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Publishing Committee · Battle Creek, Mich. · May 21, 1857

FromReview and Herald, Vol. 10, No. 3.

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WORDS OF CHEER.

By D. T. T.

We are going home. Long, long on weary foot we've pressed our way Through time's drear night, till beams of endless day Climb up heaven's cloudless dome.
The dews have chilled Our spirits, and death's shafts sent through the gloom Have thinned our ranks. Glad hearts the sullen tomb In cold embrace hath stilled.
But He who died Hath evermore been with us, and will be, To bring us to that home where we shall see Him, once the Crucified.
Soft unseen hands, And rod, and staff shall guide our wandering feet Gently o'er hill and dale, the blest to greet 'Mid glorious angel bands.
We're hastening now To where death's shafts no more our hearts shall pain And death divided friends shall meet again In circles sweet, to bow
Before that throne Where night comes not, nor ill, nor leaden foot Of care, nor disappointment's crushing lot, Nor toil, nor pain, nor groan.
O nevermore Shall passion wild, or rage, or sin's dark shade Or hate, or strife, or war's black wing invade That calm and blissful shore.
O nevermore In that pure, sinless world, shall we defile The robes our King hath decked us with; the while Our bursting grief outpour.
Courage, my soul! Soon shall the weary fight of faith be past, And thou shalt wear the conqueror's crown at last, And gain the blessed goal! D. T. T.—[Ad. Herald.