Page:Poems Kimball.djvu/158

The death of all that meaneth self and time;
    The gain of Thee,
My Lord, my God! the victory sublime
    When only Thou shalt be,—

Thou, all in all,—all in Thy fulness lost,
    And all, all found
Dear beyond price, no aspiration crossed;
    Thou, only Thou our bound;—
Shall I behold, receive, possess, attain
    All this and more
To tell whereof all tongues would strive in vain,
    In vain all language pour?

Shall the Great Vision that transcends our dreams
    At last unfold?
Thy Face, Thy Glory whence all glory streams
    Shall I indeed behold
When I awake? Oh can it ever be,
    All joys beside,
That I shall gaze and gaze, my God, on Thee?
    I shall be satisfied.