All Alone.

A poem by Eliza Paul Kirkbride Gurney

Alas! they have left me all alone
By the receding tide;
But oh! the countless multitudes
Upon the other side!

The loved, the lost, the cherished ones,
Who dwelt with us awhile,
To scatter sunbeams on our path,
And make the desert smile.

The other side! how fair it is!
Its loveliness untold,
Its "every several gate a pearl,"
Its streets are paved with gold.

Its sun shall never more go down,
For there is no night there!
And oh! what heavenly melodies
Are floating through the air!

How sweet to join the ransomed ones
On the other side the flood,
And sing a song of praise to Him
Who washed us in His blood.

Ten thousand times ten thousand
Are hymning the new song!
O Father, join Thy weary child
To that triumphant throng!

But oh! I would be patient,
"My times are in Thy hand,"
"And glory, glory dwelleth
In Immanuel's land."

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