THOUGHTS ABOUT EARTH AND HEAVEN.
By C. M. Rathbun.
I would not have my portion here
Upon this sin-cursed earth ;
Its sunniest plains are nought but drear,
And many a heart hides hate or fear,
'Neath mask of sinful mirth. I've heard about a country where
Pure crystal waters flow ;
And many fruits both rich and rare,
From boughs are pending ripe and fair,
And there I mean to go. Here there are many tempting snares
Set to entrap my feet ;
I'm weary of earth's toilsome cares,
Where every seeming pleasure wears
The impress of deceit. I've heard no sorrow there is found,
No sin doth more annoy ;
But everlasting joys abound,—
Where all with gems of gold are crowned,
Unmixed with base alloy. The thorn and thistle flourish here,
And noxious weeds doth grow ;
And poisonous reptiles lurking near
The brightest flowers, and thus with fear
We ever dwell below. There in that land, as I've been told,
Flowers fadeless deck the glade ;
And that its streets are paved with gold,
And those that dwell there ne'er grow old,
And death's rough hand is staid. But most of all, I've heard that there
The Prince of princes dwells ;
And I must have my dwelling there,
And in those heavenly blessings share ;
Farewell, old earth, farewell.
C. M. RATHBUN.
Burns, Mich.