They tell of harps and golden crowns, and singing,
But oh, I think, when ends the strife and pain,
That our dear Lord will lead the souls that love Him
Where are green grass and trees, and soft spring rain;
Where are no scorching suns, or skies drought-blazing,
But dear grey clouds with sunshine stealing through
In level rays, o’er distant wooded valleys,
And still green pools, with waterlilies blue.
And those who sought to save drought-ridden creatures,
And struggled bravely with the grim old earth,
The God of all true hearts will surely give them
Rest from their labours in a new world’s birth:
When they shall feel the fresh wind in their faces,
Fragrant with clover scents and summer shower,
And they shall praise Him in green silent places,
Who, like St. Francis, loved each tree and flower;
Who sae their God in all the changing seasons,
And never failed, or flinched, or Faith denied,
For evermore their loving Lord shall lead them
Where are green woods, and rolling pastures wide.
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Written from the point of view from the drought-ridden plains of Australia, from the dry, cracked earth to the cool verdeant greens of heaven. What a beautiful comparison Alice has visualised here. It reminds me of 'Beyond the Stars' by charles Hanson Towne, he too has the most beautiful visions of Heaven.
http://oldpoetry.com/opoem/show/46400-Charles-Hanson-Towne-Beyond-The-Stars -
This is my kind of heaven.
"Where are no scorching suns, or skies drought-blazing,
But dear grey clouds with sunshine stealing through
In level rays, o’er distant wooded valleys,
And still green pools, with waterlilies blue."
This poem feels lovely and soft.
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