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That clime is not this dull clime of our

That clime is not this dull clime of ours;
All, all is brightness there;
A sweeter influence breathes around its flowers,
And a far milder air.
No calm below is like that calm above.
No region here is like that realm of love;
Earth’s softest spring ne’er so soft a light,
Earth’s brightest summer never shone so bright.

That sky is not like this sad sky of ours,
Tinged with earth’s change and care:
No shadow dims it, and no rain-cloud lowers,—
No broken sunshine there!
One everlasting stretch of azure pours
Its stainless splendour o’er these sinless shores;
For there Jehovah shines with heavenly ray,
There Jesus reigns dispensing endless day.

Those dwellers there are not like these of earth,
No mortal stain they bear;
And yet they seem of kindred blood and birth,—
Whence, and how came they there!
Earth was their native soil, from sin and shame,
Through tribulation they to glory came;
Bond-slaves delivered from sin’s crushing load,
Brands plucked from burning by the hand of God.

Those robes of theirs are not for these below;
No angel’s half so bright!
Whence came that beauty, whence that living glow!
Whence came that radiant white?
Washed in the blood of the atoning Lamb,
Fair as the light those robes of theirs became,
And now, all tears wiped off from every eye,
They wander where the freshest pastures lie,
Through all the nightless day of that unfading sky!

marker 99
Meter: 10 6 10 6 10 10 10 10
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