The Great Hereafter

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‘Tis sweet to think when struggling
  The goal of life to win,
That just beyond the shores of time
  The better days begin.

When through the nameless ages
  I cast my longing eyes,
Before me, like a boundless sea,
  The Great Hereafter lies.

Along its brimming bosom
  Perpetual summer smiles,
And gathers like a golden robe
  Around the emerald isles.

There is the long blue distance,
  By lulling breezes fanned,
I seem to see the flowing groves
  Of old Beulah’s land.

And far beyond the island,
  That gem the wave serene,
The image of the cloudless shore
  Of holy Heaven is seen.

Until the Great Hereafter—
  Aforetime dim and dark—
I freely now, and gladly, give
  Of life the wandering bark.

And in the far-off haven,
  When shadowy seas are passed,
By angel hands is quivering sails
  Shall all be furled at last.

© Otway Curry