82 
MORNING THOUGHTS. 
Of that celestial city, bright 
With jacinth, gold and chrysolite, 
When, with its blazing pomp of light, 
The morning doth appear! 
I think of that great River 
That from the Throne flows free ; 
Of weary pilgrims on its brink, 
Who, thirsting, have come down to drink ; 
Of that unfailing Stream I think, 
When earthly streams I see! 
I think of pain and dying, 
As that which is but nought, 
When glorious morning, warm and bright, 
With all its voices of delight, 
From the chill darkness of the night, 
Like a new life, is brought. 
I think of human sorrow 
But as of clouds that brood 
Upon the bosom of the day, 
And the next moment pass away ; 
And with a trusting heart I say 
Thank God, all things are good! 
