What poetry is here, and yet all is true! It makes one weep for joy to read the passage; but what bliss it must actually be to enjoy such blessings! Shall we all be among that favoured throng? Are we quite sure?
Hunger and thirst are felt no more,
Nor suns with scorching ray;
God is their sun, whose cheering beams
Diffuse eternal day.
The Lamb which dwells amidst the throne
Shall o’er them still preside;
Feed them with nourishment divine,
And all their footsteps guide.
Mong pastures green he’ll lead his flock,
Where living streams appear;
And God the Lord from every eye
Shall wipe off ev’ry tear.