Heaven Brighter than Earth.
THOSE skies no night that wear,
Nor cloud nor tempest know,
Those skies no blight that bear,
Those streams that stainless flow,
Are they not brighter far
Than all that lure us here?
Where storms may fright each ling'ring star
From midnight's lonely sphere! Here hope, of sorrow drinks,
Here beauty yields to care,
And virtue from temptation shrinks,
And folly finds despair;
But 'mid that world above,
No baleful step may stray;
The white-winged seraph's glance of love
Would drive each ill away. Friendship is there, the guest
Of chilling doubt no more,
And love, with thornless breast,
Whose pains and fears are o'er;
There is no farewell sigh
Throughout that heavenly clime,
No moaning voice, or severed tie,
Or change of hoary time. Why plant the cypress near
The pillow of the just?
Why dew with murmuring tear
The calm and holy dust?
Bear there the rose's pride,
Bid the young myrtle bloom,
Fit emblems of the joys that bide
Beyond the insatiate tomb. 'Mid the celestial place
Our thoughts would soaring glow,
E'en while we run this pilgrim race
Of weariness and woe.
For who would shrink from death
With brief and icy hand;
Or heed the pang of shortening breath,
To win that glorious land.