As grains of sand, as stars, as drops of dew, Numbered and treasured by the Almighty Hand, The Saints triumphant throng that holy land Where all things and Jerusalem are new. We know not half they sing or half they do, But this we know, they rest and understand; While like a conflagration freshly fanned Their love glows upward, outward, thro' and thro'. Lo! like a stream of incense launched on flame Fresh Saints stream up from death to life above, To shine among those others and rejoice: What matters tribulation whence they came? All love and only love can find a voice Where God makes glad His Saints, for God is Love. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FUNERAL HYMN by LOUIS UNTERMEYER FRINGED GENTIAN by EMILY DICKINSON THE LOST SHEEP by SARAH PRATT MCCLAIN GREENE ON BEING BROUGHT FROM AFRICA TO AMERICA by PHILLIS WHEATLEY THE HUNTER AND THE MILKMAID by PIERRE JEAN DE BERANGER WELCOME TO EGYPT by MATHILDE BLIND |