In the midst of the street…and on either side of the river, was the tree of life, which bore twelve kinds of fruit, and yielded her fruit every month: and the leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations. Revelation 22:2
Words: A. B. Kendall, in White Wings, edited by Curtis Strickland & T. H. Osborn (Huntington, Indiana: C. V. Strickland, 1896), number 22, alt.
If you know Kendall’s full name, or where to get a good photo of him or Strickland (head-and-shoulders, at least 200×300 pixels), would you ?
Just beyond life’s purpling twilight,
And its sunset gates of gold,
Lies a land of wondrous beauty,
Full of joy and peace untold.
Blessèd homeland, heavenly homeland,
Just beyond earth’s darkest night,
Where the tree of life is blooming,
And the skies are ever bright.
Just beyond life’s moaning surges,
And its billows’ ceaseless roll,
Hidden from our earth-dimmed vision,
Lies the homeland of the soul.
And tho’ hidden by the shadows,
Glorious sunshine sometimes falls,
Radiant gleams of Heaven’s splendor,
From its jeweled jasper walls.
Just beyond our weary watching,
Just beyond our doubts and fears,
Just beyond our hopes and longings,
Just beyond our pain and tears.
Just beyond the curtain lifting,
We shall see the glittering towers,
Of that distant longed for haven,
In God’s summerland of flowers.