"THE KINGDOM AT HAND."

BEN. HAWORTH–BOOTH.

There is a state of being happier far
Than this material consciousness of things:
Near to thine heart its sweet perfections are,
Though far from earthly bourne of happenings.
The sunlight of His presence, and the truth
Of God's unchanging equity uphold
The joy of that creation's ageless youth
In plenitude of grace, in peace untold.
And such indeed is heaven—a true perceiving
Of life uplifted and of love unfeigned;
The pure, the wise, the beautiful achieving,
In truth accepted and in glory gained.
And on the threshold of thine heart one stands
To bid thee enter there: the open page
Of Science and the nail print of his hands
Give thee the guerdon of thine heritage:
Born of the lineage of the sons of light
Under the lamp of Truth's high architrave,
We conquer earth's material, sensual night,
And sin's abysmal deep, the sunless grave.
We fain would enter heaven: we long to taste
The ambrosial sweetness of unfading flowers,
To see the Elysian lawns the seers have traced,
And know the life of Spirit ever ours:
Cease then from man, who knows nor meed nor merit,
Whose breath is in his nostrils, and unbar
Thy mind to heed the promptings of the Spirit
That bids thee gaze upon the morning star.
We are His sons, and He our heavenly Sire,
We have no life save that which flows from Soul:
Give Him thine all, He claims thine heart entire,
And giving all, thou gainest still the whole.
Life, Truth, and Love, forever linked in one,
For thee shall guide and guard thy faltering feet:
In them thou hast eternal unison,
A threefold cord, consummate and complete:
They bid thee enter heaven; arise and taste
The living waters in a thirsty land:
The cup of healing at thy lips is placed:
Behold your King! The kingdom is at hand.

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