Page:Poems Hoffman.djvu/239

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Forward beyond the wrecks of time
Faith looks to another fairer clime
Where no crumbling shrines of lost happiness
Shall dim the past with their bitterness,
Where no vanished hand shall leave its trace
Or love repine for a long lost face.

Faith turns from sad Memory's crumbling dome
And sings in her gladness: "Home, sweet Home!"
Not for the streets of transparent gold
Nor the pearly gateways backward rolled
Nor the tree of Life, nor the river fair
Nor the untold glories gathered there,

Nor the many mansions ever bright
In the beautiful realm where there is no night;
Not even the crown or the glittering throne
Is the prize that lures to that better home.
O Heaven, time were but barren dearth
If gold and gems were thine only worth!

But brighter than all those towers above
Is the haloed presence of sacred love,
For those gates shall echo the eager feet
And those courts resound when the ransomed meet,
And those mansions ring from portal to dome
When the wandering children are gathered home;

And crowned over all in matchless grace
The glorious light of the Saviour's face,
And the power that sways that world of bliss
Is the power that makes a home in this;
But nevermore shall the pilgrims roam
When they join in the angel's Home sweet Home.

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