Life Triumphant

A poet wrote—"So young, so strong, so sure of God!"
But I am old. The years have fled,
And swifter than the weaver's shuttle
My days into the sere and yellow leaf have dropped.
My useful days are past, and they whose stay I was
Need me no more.
Yet still I linger when I fain would glimpse
The golden glories of that farther shore,
That heaven which shall restore to me again
The vanished years,
And make me young once more, and strong, and sure of God—
Thus reasoned I.

But it was error spoke,
Striving to dim the glorious voice of Truth,
That Truth which has sustained me through the years,
Which bids me know
That now my youth is as the Father's,
My days eternal as the everlasting years.
My strength and vigor, undiminished,
Flow to me from the boundless source of life.
My sureness of God's mercy is a part of me
That cannot wane or die,
For well I know His love and power to bless,
His ceaseless tenderness to all His own;
And heaven is here.

No darksome river flows between the "here" and "there,"
No "there" is known to omnipresent Mind;
Heaven is forever here—and Life, and Truth, and Love.

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