Nearing Home.

A poem by John Hartley

We are near the last bend of the river,
Soon will the prospect be bright;
Already the waves seem to quiver,
As touched with celestial light.
Since first we were launched on its bosom,
Strange hap'nings and perils we've passed,
But we've braved and endured them together
And we're nearing the haven at last.

We are near the last bend of lifes river,
Around, all is tranquil and calm;
The tempests that passed us can never,
Again strike our souls with alarm.
We are drifting, - unconsciously gliding,
Down Time's river - my darling and me.
And soon in love's sweet trust abiding,
We shall sail on Eternities sea.

Oh, how the soul strains with its yearning
To see what is hid beyond this,
This life, with its pain and heartburning -
The beyond, where is nothing but bliss.
Our life's Sun has touched the horizon,
It will speedily dip out of sight,
And then what? Will a new morn be rising?
Or will it for ever be night?