To a Sister

DEAR Sister, when at yonder throne
I daily bow the knee
In prayer for those my heart holds dear,
What shall I ask for thee?

Fain would I wish thee many years
Of happiness below,
Without a pang to wound thy breast,
Without a tear to flow.
Yes, I would wish thee length of days—
Health, wealth, and pleasure too—
Had’st thou no brighter home above,
No better rest in view.
But well I know thy longing heart
Can never find a home
In this deceitful, treacherous world,
Where He, thy Lord, had none!
But, Sister, there remains for thee
A glorious heavenly home,
Where storms and tempests cannot reach,
And sorrow is unknown:
A home eternal in the heavens,
Built by immortal hands,
Where He, thy soul’s beloved One,
Waiting to greet thee stands.
And there thy happy ransomed soul
Shall calmly, sweetly rest,
Folded within thy Saviour’s arms
And sheltered on His breast.
Thy longing eyes, so often wet
With tears of sorrow now,
Shall gaze on Him who wore for thee
The thorns upon His brow;
Thy weary feet, that long have trod
This wilderness below,
In yonder Paradise of God
Eternal rest shall know.
Dear Sister, may this blessed hope
Sustain thee day by day,
And bear thy fainting spirit up
Along life’s thorny way.
And when o’erwhelmed with bitter grief,
Still be it thine to hear
The music of the Shepherd’s voice,
Dispelling every fear.
And should it be thy lot to tread
The gloomy vale of death,
Oh be it thine to sing of Him,
E’en with thy latest breath;
And as thy spirit upward soars
To yonder mansions fair,
May shouts of joy and victory
Proclaim thy welcome there!