File:The home beyond, or, Views of heaven and its relation to earth (1898) (14596340928).jpg

Identifier: homebeyondorview00fall (find matches)
Title: The home beyond, or, Views of heaven and its relation to earth
Year: 1898 (1890s)
Authors: Fallows, Samuel, Bp., 1835-1922
Subjects: Heaven Future life
Publisher: Chicago : M.A. Donahue
Contributing Library: Internet Archive
Digitizing Sponsor: Internet Archive

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deal more than the most complimentary utterancesover the coffin of the dead. The time to carry flowers is when theycan be looked upon and handled, when their fragrance can be inhaledand their beauty enjoyed ; when the attention bestowed will warm theheart and awaken more. Love poured out at family altars, in the so-cial circle, amid the struggles and conflicts of life,may lift up thefallen, cheer the fainting heart, convert sorrow into joy, causingmany a flower to spring up and bloom along the rugged pathways ofthis world. Were this done, there would be smiles instead of tears,rosy cheeks, where now there are dull and haggard ones, light in theplace of darkness, and a terrestial paradise, perhaps, in the raging,warring elements of an earthly pandemonium. Of gold, and gems, and jewels rare, Earth hides a countless store,If we may trust the sages Deep read in natures lore;And many a pearl lies buried In oceans shining caves,But sacred treasures sleep within Our pleasant hill of graves.
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THE REV. W. AUGUSTUS MUHLENBURG, D. D, OR VIEWS OF HEAVEN. 115 I WOULD NOT LIVE ALWAY. WILLIAM AUGUSTUS MUHLENBERG. I would not live alway—live alway below! Oh, no, Ill not linger when bidden to go: The days of our pilgrimage granted us here Are enough for lifes woes, full enough for its cheer: Would I shrink from the path which the prophets of God, Apostles, and martyrs, so joyfully trod? Like a spirit unblest, oer the earth would I roam, While brethren and friends are all hastening home? I would not live alway—I ask not to stayWhere storm after storm rises dark oer the way;Where seeking for rest we but hover around,Like the patriarchs bird, and no resting is found;Where Hope, when she paints her gay bow in the air,Leaves its brilliance to fade in the night of despair,And Joys fleeting angel neer sheds a glad ray,Save the gleam of the plumage that bears him away. I would not live alway—thus fettered by sin,Temptation without and corruption within;In a moment of strength if I se

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