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533 Prospect of Heaven


The faithless world promiscuous flows,
Enrapt in fancy's vision,
Allured by sounds, beguiled by shows
And empty dreams; they scarcely know
There is a brighter heaven.

There is an hour of peaceful rest,
To mourning wand'rers given;
There is a joy for souls distressed,
A balm for ev'ry wounded breast -
'Tis found above - in heaven.

There is a soft, a downy bed,
'Tis soft as breath of even;
A couch for weary mortals spread,
Where they may rest the aching head,
And find repose - in heaven.
 
There is a home for weary souls,
By sin and sorrow driven;
Now tossed on life's tempestuous shoals,
Where storms arise, and ocean rolls,
And all is drear - but heaven.

There, faith lifts up her cheerful eye,
To brighter prospects given;
And views the tempest passing by,
The evening shadows quickly fly,
And all serene - in heaven.

There, fragrant flow'rs immortal bloom,
And joys supreme are given:
There, joys divine disperse the gloom -
Beyond the confines of the tomb
Appears the dawn of heaven.

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