When we reach our peaceful dwelling on the strong eternal hills
And our praise to Him is swelling, who the vast creation fills–
When the paths of prayer and duty, and affliction all are trod,
And we wake and see the beauty of our Saviour and our God.
Oh! twill be a glorious morrow
To a dark and stormy day,
When we smile upon our sorrow,
And the storms have passed away.
With the light of resurrection, when our changed bodies glow,
And we gain the full perfection of the bliss begun below–
When the life the flesh obscureth in each radiant form shall shine,
And the joy that aye endureth flashes forth in beams divine.
Shall the memory be banished of His kindness and His care,
When the wants and woes are vanished, which He loved to soothe and share?
All the way by which He led us, all the grievings that he bore,
And the patient love He taught us, shall we think of them no more?
We shall read the tender meaning of the sorrows and alarms,
As we trod the desert leaning on His everlasting arms;
And His rest will be the dearer when we think of weary ways.
And His light will shine the clearer as we muse on cloudy days.
W. P. Mackay